We’ve heard it before: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. But that doesn’t mean being uncomfortable or vulnerable is easy. 

As a speaker, I’m used to bravely stepping out onto a place where many people fear to tread – the stage. But every time I do this, even when it feels tough, I learn something. 

One moment that is seared in my memory was during a speech I delivered for International Women’s Day 2023. 

A hard heckle. 

I’d just given my lunchtime keynote in line with the UN Women’s official theme: Cracking the Code – Innovation for a More Gender Equal Future.

It was a crowd of more than 170 people, the kind of people who were my peers during my former corporate career in finance. 

The energy in the room felt good. Hardly anyone was on their phone – this is always a great sign that things are going well. I finished and we opened up the floor for a Q&A, which included  thoughtful, intelligent questions. It all seemed to be landing well.

Then came the last question.

An event sponsor – let’s call her Sally – stood up. And I made the fatal error of handing her my microphone.

What followed was not a question, but a passionate and public takedown of some of the key ideas in my keynote.

Sally’s table – along with a few others – cheered and clapped as she spoke.

It was one of those moments where time slows down. You’re not exactly sure what’s happening, but you do know that you need to stay calm, clear and resourceful.

I managed to regain the microphone, thanked her for her passionate contribution, asked her to clarify a few points and responded with: “The way we want to and actually see the world, and the lens we see it through, is not always the lens through which others see it. So it’s important to recognise how gender stereotypes are at play and how they impact everyone differently.”

I added a few other points, then made my way straight to Sally’s table, where I was met with more perspectives, objections, and personal stories.

What that moment taught me. 

While Sally later extended an olive branch in private, she never apologised publicly for the outburst.

I received plenty of feedback from those who saw the exchange, reassuring me that I’d handled it with grace and dignity. But the sting of her words, and the public nature of the moment, stayed with me.

So, what did I learn?

That I needed to strengthen my content and delivery to ensure I could confidently stand by my work while also delivering value, insight and inspiration. And that I needed to adapt and meet audiences wherever they were on their own gender equity and leadership journey.

That meant I had some work to do. 

I engaged an expert coach – someone I trusted to push me, challenge me, and help me elevate my keynote to be more universally impactful and inspiring.

She pushed me. I pushed back. But together, we refined, strengthened, and practised until my keynote felt worthy.

It became one of the hardest professional projects I’ve worked on. And, strangely enough, it was Sally’s voice in my head – questioning, challenging – that fuelled my determination to improve.

The result? A keynote I was proud to deliver, and the feedback has been overwhelmingly positive. 

Growing and learning. 

I’m incredibly thankful for my coach and confidante, Jacq, who stood by me throughout this process.

And, surprisingly, I’m grateful for Sally.

Her challenge forced me to stretch, grow and strengthen. She’s no longer in my head, but I know she’ll pop back in if I ever need another push.

What About You? Have you ever had a tough, uncomfortable moment that turned into your biggest lesson? How did it shape you?

I’d love to hear your experiences, because sometimes our hardest moments lead to our greatest growth.