Doing It Scared

Running a workshop, solo, with a room full of 70 to 80 people for the first time was scary as shit. But last month I did exactly that, running Design-in-Code (Not Design-to-Code) (opens in new tab) at DIBI Conference, and everyone built something. Not just designed something, but actually built a functional prototype to present back. Many of them were building for the first time.

The bit before

My voice was trembling at the start. My chest was tightening like a wet towel being wrung after 27 twists. My whole ideal plan had been thrown out of the window by last-minute changes, and I suddenly needed to kick things off as the first speaker.

All that worry and doubt, for what?

I think fear turns up loudest before something new because there's nothing to compare it to. When you've done something before, your brain has a rough sense of how it goes. When you haven't, it fills the gap itself, and it rarely fills it with the good version. It plays out the awkward silence, the thing that breaks, the room that doesn't get it. None of it has happened, but it feels real enough to make your chest tight.

The anticipation is almost always bigger than the thing. I'd spent far more time being nervous about the workshop than the workshop itself actually lasted. That's a strange trade when you think about it.

When the plan falls apart

I'm someone who likes a plan. I'd pictured how the session would run, and in my head that version was safe. Then things changed at the last minute, and I was suddenly going first, kicking off the whole day.

In the moment that felt like the worst possible thing. The plan was the part that made me feel ready, and it was gone. Looking back, it might have been a good thing. There wasn't time to keep rehearsing the perfect version in my head. I had to get up and deal with what was actually in front of me.

That's the bit I hadn't expected. Adapting is a lot easier than worrying. Worrying is all hypotheticals, and you can't fix a hypothetical. Once you're actually in the room, the problems are real and they're usually small. Something doesn't load, you change the order, you move on.

The bit after

The trembling didn't last. A few minutes in, I was too busy to be nervous. There were people to help, questions to answer, and things happening around the room. The nerves didn't vanish because I talked myself out of them. They just got pushed out by the doing.

And what was the outcome? A room full of people networking and meeting one another. Learning new skills, working together, and building something they'd never have built at work. And a bunch of people from all over the world telling me how much they'd enjoyed the session and how much they'd learnt. Even the tech mostly behaved, with not too many hiccups.

That's what I was scared of? Of course not.

What I was scared of was a version of the day that only existed in my head.

Confidence comes after

I used to think confidence was something you needed to have before you did something. That you'd wait until you felt ready, and then you'd go. I don't really believe that any more.

I didn't feel confident walking up to the front of that room. I feel a lot more confident now, having done it. The confidence came out of the doing, not the other way round. If I'd waited to feel ready, I'd still be waiting.

There's something in that for designers too. A lot of us are being nudged out of the tools and habits we know, whether that's building in code for the first time or just doing work that looks different from what we're used to. It's easy to hold off until you feel qualified. But I don't think that feeling arrives on its own. You get it by trying the thing, being a bit rubbish at it, and then being less rubbish the next time. Plenty of people in that room were building for the first time, and they did it anyway.

Not knowing is the point

But if I had known the outcome before it took place, would I have even done it? Would I have challenged myself? Probably not.

That sounds backwards, but I think it's true. If I'd known it would go well, it wouldn't have been a challenge. It would have been a box to tick. The not knowing is what made it mean something. It's what made me prepare properly, care about the people in the room, and feel properly proud afterwards. Take away the risk and you take a lot of that away too.

So if you're sat on the idea of your first talk or workshop, waiting until it feels less scary, I'd gently say it probably won't. Not before you do it, anyway. Your voice might shake at the start. Your plan might fall apart. You'll probably be fine, and you'll be a bit braver the next time.

I'm glad I did. (Here's what I posted afterwards (opens in new tab).)