I Didn’t Win the Speaker Competition. Except… I Did.

Last week, I competed in North America’s Next Greatest Speaker at the eWomen Network International Conference.

I made it to the semifinals.

Three women would be chosen to move on to the finals.

And I was ready.

I had practiced. And practiced. And practiced some more.

I had visualized myself winning. I could see it. Feel it. I even knew exactly what I was wearing when they called my name.

And then I walked onto that stage.

And I nailed it.

I was prepared.I was grounded.I was certain.

But more importantly, maybe for the first time ever on a stage that big, I wasn’t trying to prove anything.

I wasn’t trying to be the “right” kind of speaker.

I wasn’t looking around the room wondering if I was doing it right.

I was simply me.

Powerful. Candid. Authentic. And yes, with my wicked sense of humor fully intact.

I stood on that stage and thought:

Here I am.

And I meant it.

And Then They Didn’t Call My Name

When they announced the finalists, they called the first name.

Then the second.

And I remember sitting there thinking:

Yep. I’m number three.

Except…

I wasn’t.

Hmmmm.

And here’s what surprised me.

I wasn’t devastated.

I wasn’t resentful.

I congratulated the women who moved forward. I cheered for them. And I meant it.

Now, did I wake up the next morning a little mad and a little sad?

Oh, hell yes.

I’m evolved. I’m not dead.

But once I let myself feel the disappointment, something else became very clear:

Not being selected as a finalist didn’t mean I didn’t win.

In fact, I was beginning to realize I had defined winning far too narrowly.

What If the Outcome Isn’t the Win?

The first round of the competition had a strict three-minute time limit.

Go over, and you were disqualified.

Three minutes.

Do you have any idea how quickly three minutes goes by when you have approximately 47 minutes of brilliant things you’d like to say?

I had to learn to cut the fluff.

Trust the message.

Stop explaining everything.

Get to the point.

Make every word count.

And somewhere in that process, I became a better speaker.

If I had moved on to the finals, I would have had six minutes total, so I had already written and practiced the additional three minutes.

Which means I walked away from this competition with something I didn’t have when I started:

A powerful signature talk.

But I walked away with something even bigger.

Evidence of who I have become.

The Woman Who Walked Onto That Stage

There was a time when I would have second-guessed every word.

Compared myself to the other speakers.

Wondered what the judges wanted.

Tried to figure out the formula for doing it “right.”

Maybe I would have made not being chosen mean something about me.

That I wasn’t good enough.

That someone else was better.

That I wasn’t ready.

But that’s not what happened.

I showed up fully as myself.

I didn’t shrink.

I didn’t second-guess every word.

I didn’t look around the room to see whether I belonged there.

I knew I belonged there.

I was surrounded by support—my bestie and business partner, Jessica, and a room full of incredible women cheering me on.

Women came up to me afterward and told me I had inspired them.

That my words had spoken directly to their souls.

And I felt proud of myself.

Not because someone had handed me a title.

Because I knew how I had shown up.

And Then There Were the Shoes

Oh, the shoes.

I had my finalist “winner” outfit carefully chosen, including the most gloriously bodacious peacock-feather shoes you can imagine.

Since I wasn’t moving on to the finals, technically there was no reason to wear them.

So naturally…

I wore them the next day.

Because somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn't going to wait for someone else—with qualifications I didn't even know—to declare me a winner before I allowed myself to feel like one.

Those ridiculous, fabulous shoes became their own little declaration:

I get to decide what this means.

And that may have been one of the biggest wins of all.

You Are Your Greatest Competition

On the last day of the conference, I received a card that said:

“You Are Your Greatest Competition.”

Well, damn.

Message received.

Because it’s so easy to look around and measure ourselves against everyone else.

Who got picked.

Who got the opportunity.

Who has the bigger audience.

Who is further ahead.

Who appears more successful.

But maybe the question was never:

Did I beat the other women?

Maybe the real questions are:

Did I stretch?

Did I grow?

Did I learn?

Did I show up when it would have been easier to stay safely in the audience?

Did I let myself be seen?

Did I trust myself more?

Did I become better at my craft?

Did I have the courage to be completely, unapologetically me?

And perhaps the biggest question of all:

Did I become more of the woman I came here to be?

For me, the answer is:

Yes.

Yes.

And hell yes.

Maybe We Need a Bigger Definition of Winning

I went into that competition visualizing myself winning.

I just had the definition of winning a little too small.

I thought winning meant hearing my name called.

Instead, winning looked like standing on that stage completely grounded in who I am.

It looked like cheering for other women without diminishing myself.

It looked like women cheering for me.

It looked like creating a signature talk I didn’t have before.

It looked like peacock-feather shoes.

It looked like trusting myself.

And it looked like leaving that conference knowing I was not the same woman who walked in.

Sometimes the win isn’t the outcome.

Sometimes the win is the courage it took to begin.

The growth that happened along the way.

The part of yourself you discovered.

The old version of you that you outgrew.

The evidence that you can trust yourself.

And the woman standing on the other side saying:

Look at who I am now.

So if something didn’t turn out the way you hoped recently, maybe it’s worth asking a different question.

Instead of:

Did I win?

Ask:

Who did I become because I was willing to go for it?

You might discover you won far more than you realized.

I certainly did.

Because winning isn't always something someone else gets to declare.

Sometimes it's who you become in the process.

And this time?

I won.

Not because they called my name.

Because a winner is who I am.

And a winner is who you are.

Here I am. Ta-da! ✨

Your Here I Am Moment

“Here I Am” is more than something I say. It’s a declaration.

I am here.

I am worthy of being seen.

I am done waiting for permission.

I am ready to show up fully as myself.

And yes, we created an anthem for that.

🎶 Download the Here I Am Anthem:https://www.presariogroup.com/hereiam

Turn it up.

And have your own Here I Am. Ta-da! moment.

With Love,

Michelle