two weeks ago, i disappeared from posting.
not because i was burned out or taking a "social media detox" or anything like that lol. i needed to step back and actually look at what i'd built over the last five years.
to take stock of this brand, this business, this weird digital life i've created.
and honestly? what i discovered surprised the hell out of me.
i was scrolling through my old content when i stumbled across something that made me cringe so hard i almost threw my phone. my very first Instagram story from 2019.
there i was, nervous energy radiating through the screen, stumbling over words, looking like i'd rather be anywhere else on earth.
but then something hit me as i watched that awkward, terrified version of myself: that guy was the start of everything my brand became.
see, these days people keep commenting on my TikTok talking head videos. you know, the ones where i just prop up a camera and talk about whatever's on my mind.
teaching something i learned, reacting to a movie i just watched, sharing some random thought that popped into my head. simple stuff. but people seem to love the authenticity of it.
"you're so natural on camera."
"i love how comfortable you are just being yourself."
"your confidence is inspiring."
and every time i read those comments, i think about that first Instagram story. because the confidence they see now? it didn't start with some natural talent or charisma. it started with pure, raw terror.
let me take you back to where it really began…
the boy who couldn't hold a mic
growing up in Accra, Ghana, my hands would shake uncontrollably every time someone handed me a microphone.
didn't matter if it was a school presentation, a family gathering, or even just being called on to answer a question in class – that familiar tremor would start in my fingers and work its way up my arms.
i remember being maybe eight or nine years old, standing in front of my class for a presentation about Ghana's independence or something. the teacher handed me the microphone, and i gripped it so tight my knuckles hurt, trying desperately to keep my hands steady.
but everyone (even my CRUSH) could see it. the shaking. the fear.
that moment burned itself into my memory because of the laughter.
not cruel laughter, but the kind of nervous giggling kids do when they're uncomfortable. and in that moment, i made a decision that would follow me for decades: i would avoid speaking in public at all costs.
fast forward through high school, university, early career, i became the person who would rather take a zero on a presentation than stand up and speak. i'd volunteer for extra written assignments, find creative ways to contribute to group projects without presenting, anything to avoid that microphone moment.
even when i started building my brand online, that fear was still there.
i could write.
i could design.
i could strategize and create content that worked.
but getting in front of a camera? speaking out loud to an audience?
that little boy from Accra would still show up, hands trembling, voice shaking.
then i saw Danny Allen-Page.
the man who changed everything
i first discovered Danny through a random Instagram post that somehow ended up on my explore page.
this guy had this unshakeable confidence on camera that i couldn't look away from. he wasn't polished like a TV presenter or overly enthusiastic like those motivational speakers who make you want to roll your eyes.
he was just… real. authentic. comfortable in his own skin.
i started following his content, and i noticed something: he talked about personal development and sales, but he did it in this conversational way that felt like he was talking directly to me.
no fancy studio setup.
no perfect lighting.
just him, a camera, and complete confidence in what he was saying.
then he announced a 7-day Instagram story challenge.
free. simple. just post one story responding to his daily prompt for seven consecutive days. that's it.
i remember staring at that post for probably twenty minutes, having this internal debate that would sound familiar to anyone who's ever stood at the edge of their comfort zone:
"this could be good for you." "but you'll look stupid." "it's just seven days." "people will judge you." "Danny's audience probably won't even see your stories." "what if they do and they laugh?"
but there was something about Danny's confidence that i couldn't shake.
i wanted that.
i wanted to be able to speak my thoughts without my voice betraying me. i wanted to stop avoiding opportunities because they involved speaking.
so i did something that terrified me: i signed up.
the seven days that built my foundation
day 1 was hell.
the prompt was simple. if i remember correctly, it was something like "introduce yourself and share one thing people probably don't know about you."
i must have recorded that shit twenty times. each take, i'd watch it back and cringe.
too many "ums." voice shaking. looking everywhere except directly at the camera.
i was overthinking every single word, every pause, every gesture.
finally, i just hit post on take number 21. it wasn't good. but it was done.
day 2 was slightly less hell, but still pretty brutal.
this time i only did about fifteen takes. progress, right?
by day 3, something weird started happening. i was still nervous, still recording multiple takes, but i noticed i was getting more comfortable with the sound of my own voice.
the prompts were forcing me to think about things i'd never articulated out loud before.
day 4 was the turning point.
the prompt was: "talk about a skill you're proud of and how you developed it."
for some reason, this one felt easier. maybe because i was talking about something i actually knew about – graphic design. i recorded it in maybe five takes instead of twenty. and when i watched it back, i thought, "that wasn't terrible."
days 5, 6, and 7 flew by. not because they were easy, but because i'd stopped caring about sounding perfect. i was more focused on answering the prompt honestly than on how many times i said "um."
but here's what i didn't expect: those awkward seven days didn't just help me get over my fear. they accidentally built the foundation for everything my brand would become.
what really happened during that week
while i was busy trying not to embarrass myself, i was actually doing something much more powerful: i was building my authentic voice through repetition.
each story post was teaching me something crucial:
how my brain naturally organizes thoughts when i'm speaking
what topics made me genuinely excited to talk about
when i sounded forced versus when i sounded natural
how to recover when i lost my train of thought
that people actually connected more with real than rehearsed
but the biggest lesson didn't come until months later, when i looked back at those seven stories.
i had documented my own transformation in real time.
day 1 me and day 7 me were completely different speakers. not because i'd learned some technique or had perfect content, but because i'd given myself permission to be imperfect in public.
the science behind why it worked
here's something i've learned about confidence that nobody talks about: it's not a personality trait you're born with. it's a skill you develop through exposure.
every time you do the thing that scares you and don't die, your brain updates its threat assessment. "oh, speaking on camera didn't kill me. interesting." the next time becomes slightly less terrifying.
but here's the key: it has to be consistent exposure. one random video every few months won't rewire anything. but seven days in a row? that's enough repetition for your brain to start recognizing patterns and building new neural pathways.
the Instagram story format was perfect for this because:
it felt temporary – stories disappear after 24 hours, so the stakes felt lower
the audience was smaller – not everyone sees your stories, unlike feed posts
the format was casual – people expect stories to be more raw and unpolished
there was a clear structure – having prompts removed the "what do i talk about?" paralysis
it was time-bound – seven days felt manageable, even scary-manageable
Danny probably didn't realize he was designing the perfect confidence-building framework. he was just trying to help people get more comfortable on camera. but for someone like me, someone who'd been avoiding this fear for decades, it was exactly what i needed.
the compound effect reveals itself
fast forward to last month, when i was analyzing my most successful content of 2024 and 2025. want to guess what performed best across all platforms?
talking head videos.
not the perfectly edited tutorials. not the beautifully designed graphics. not the collaborative posts with other creators.
just me, a camera, and whatever was on my mind.
on TikTok especially, my talking head content consistently outperforms everything else. videos where i react to something i just watched. mini-lessons about branding or business. random thoughts about creativity or entrepreneurship.
the format is dead simple: i prop up my camera on my desk, hit record, and talk for 60-90 seconds about whatever's in my head that day. no script. no fancy editing. just conversation.
and people love it.
but here's what clicked during my two-week reflection period: this didn't happen overnight. that confidence, that ability to just turn on a camera and speak naturally – it was built one awkward Instagram story at a time, starting with Danny's challenge.
every story i posted during those seven days was practice. every subsequent video was building on that foundation. by the time i started making TikToks, i'd already logged hundreds of hours of speaking practice without even realizing it.
the little boy from Accra who couldn't hold a microphone without shaking? he's still here. but now he knows something he didn't know then: confidence isn't about not being scared. it's about doing it anyway, one awkward video at a time.
your turn: the modern version
if you're reading this and thinking, "i wish i had Danny's confidence" or "i want to be comfortable on camera like Mike," i have good news: you can build this skill. it's not magic. it's not talent. it's practice.
if there's enough interest, I will run a challenge where we would do this together, but you've got to send me a reply telling me you're interested. but i'll show you what it would look like
here's the thing – Instagram stories aren't the hottest format anymore. the modern equivalent? TikTok talking head videos.
here's why this format is perfect for building speaking confidence right now:
the algorithm loves talking head content TikTok's algorithm currently favors authentic, conversational videos. you don't need fancy editing or perfect lighting. the platform actually rewards raw, genuine content.
lower stakes than other platforms unlike YouTube or LinkedIn where content feels more permanent and professional, TikTok has that casual, experimental vibe. people expect content to be more spontaneous.
built-in feedback loop the comment section gives you immediate feedback on what resonates. you'll quickly learn which topics people care about and how your message is landing.
short form removes pressure 60-90 seconds means you don't need to sustain energy for long. you can make your point and be done. and if you live in the US you might earn some money on top of that video.
endless content ideas react to something you just watched. teach something you learned today. share your take on an industry trend. the prompts are everywhere.
the technical side (because strategy means nothing without execution)
equipment: your phone. seriously. prop it up on some books if you need to, but don't let equipment be your excuse.
lighting: face a window during the day. that's it. natural light is still the best light.
audio: this matters more than video quality. find a quiet space or wait until your environment is calm.
length: 60-90 seconds max. any longer and you'll overthink it.
editing: minimal. maybe cut out a long pause, but keep it conversational.
overcoming the voice in your head
"but i don't know what to say…"
you know more than you think. react to something you just watched. teach one small thing you learned today. share your opinion about something in your industry. the prompts are everywhere once you start looking.
"what if i look stupid?"
you might. i definitely did. but here's the thing: you looking slightly awkward on camera is not the career-ending catastrophe your brain makes it out to be. most people are too busy worrying about how they look to judge how you look.
"what if no one engages?"
then you practiced speaking on camera and got slightly more comfortable. that's still a win. engagement is nice, but it's not the point. the point is building your confidence and finding your voice.
"what if people criticize me?"
some might. but you know what i've learned? the people who comment negatively on others' content are usually the same people who are too afraid to put themselves out there. their criticism says more about them than you.
that little boy in Ghana who couldn't hold a microphone without his hands shaking? he's still here. but now he knows something that changed everything:
your voice matters. your perspective is valuable. your authentic self is more interesting than any polished version you could create.
and the only way to discover that truth is to stop thinking about it and start speaking.
the camera is waiting. your voice is ready. the only question left is: are you?
what's your biggest speaking fear? hit reply and tell me - i read every response and i'll cheer you on through the challenge.
PS: If you read this far, it means you relate so much to this and want to improve, I'm gauging to see if there's enough interest for a Public Speaking Challenge. If I get 5 people who want to do this, I'll plan something.
Good read? Coffee donations appreciated :)
I appreciate all the support!
See you on social
Love, Mike.