# From Tech Fails to Truth Bombs ##### How a disastrous workshop made me question what I was trying to prove  --- Ten years ago, I ran my first online course. This was before Zoom and all the fancy tech we have today. I’ve since run quite a few courses, workshops, and trainings. Every time I did, something felt *off*. *I* felt off. Until yesterday. I ran a live training on Menstrual Cycle Awareness for Perimenopause, and that’s when it finally hit me... *I really fucking hate teaching live.* Not the teaching itself. Not the creating or sharing my knowledge. But the live part. Where I have to talk and talk and talk. *It’s like my whole nervous system rebels.* And after the trainwreck that was yesterday, I’m done. Here’s why... --- ## The clusterfuck that was yesterday Let me take you through my day… I had trouble logging into Zoom, which is always a joy. My slides weren’t syncing with my notes. When I *finally* got on the call, people kept joining and then leaving (*side note: I hate to not allow people in*). Then came the moment that broke me. A lovely participant messaged me saying she couldn’t hear a thing. I looked and realised I’d been talking to myself for *twenty minutes*. My mic was on, but the wrong one was connected. *Honestly?* *I could have cried.* Instead, I cancelled the call, deciding to record it on my own. But of course, because the universe was clearly testing me, it didn’t go smoothly. --- ## Recording fail (again) I started recording, but my throat kept getting dry. So I paused to drink and cough. Then my boys came home, telling me about their football match and what new bike they were saving for. Which meant I had to pause even more. When I *finally* finished, I checked the recording. Two hours long. *Two hours.* I knew it was supposed to be 90 minutes max. Guess what? Those pauses where I thought I’d stopped recording? Nope. The recording kept going. *Cue more frustration.* Another hour went by as I processed the recording, clipping out unnecessary bits. So yeah, if you hear me cough or talk about football scores, just fast forward. Clearly, I missed some. But wait, there’s more... --- ## The final fuck-up All I had to do was upload the damn thing. First try: file too large. So I reprocessed it. Second try: success! Or so I thought. The email went out. But when I opened it, the video wasn’t there. Back to uploading. Finally, *finally*, it worked. By that point, I was so exhausted I had nothing left to give. So I ranted to my husband. Rampage-cleaned my house (*anyone else do this?*). Walked the dog. And journaled. --- ## That’s when I realised some hard truths I love learning new things. I love connecting ideas. I love creating. And I love teaching. But I fucking hate *live* teaching. *Just to clarify... this doesn’t apply to coaching. Coaching is completely different.* What I’m talking about here is the stuff where I have to talk non-stop for 60–90 minutes. And I’m also not talking about teaching alongside someone else... where you can have a breather and have each other’s back. I’m talking about Live Stuff where it’s just you. And you have to talk. And talk. And talk. Why? Because I’m an introvert. A highly sensitive person. And someone who is quite possibly neurodivergent. *Which means my whole nervous system just doesn’t do well with this type of thing.* And the truth is... I’ve *always* known this. Even since that first course ten years ago. But every time, I’ve convinced myself that I just need to get better at it. I need to learn more. I need to be more extroverted (*as if I could change my personality 🤦‍♀️*). But you know what? Fuck that. It’s not that there’s something wrong with me. It’s just that teaching live isn’t aligned with who I am. I need more ease. I need to breathe. I need to talk less. *And that’s okay.* (*Anyone else noticing a theme with these posts lately?*) --- ## Why we flake For years, I’ve been afraid of being seen as a flake. The word cuts deep. It’s basically saying you’re unreliable. Inconsistent. Not trustworthy. But here’s the thing… If I ask myself whether that’s true... If I *really* ask myself... Then the answer is yes. *And* no. Yes, I flake sometimes. Yes, I’ve backed out of things I said I was going to do. But when I ask myself why? I realise it’s because I never *wanted* to do those things in the first place. They weren’t aligned with who I am. Or what I truly wanted. They were bullshit promises. Ones I made based on what I thought I *should* be doing. Not what was actually right for me. And that’s when we flake, isn’t it? When we say yes to things that deep down we want to say no to. When we create goals based on what others are doing instead of what truly lights us up. So yeah, *sometimes* I flake. But now I know it’s because those commitments weren’t authentic. They weren’t aligned with my true self. --- ## Fuck forcing it So what now? Do I keep forcing myself into live teaching situations because that’s what other people do? Fuck no. I know now that I’m done with live teachings. From now on, I’ll be pre-recording all my sessions. So if you have questions, make sure you send them ahead of time. Other than that, we’re all set. (*Again – not on about coaching or teaching alongside someone.*) --- ## Final thoughts If we’re afraid of being seen as inconsistent or a flake... We need to think about *why* we want to back out of things. And chances are, if we are backing out – it’s because we’re following someone else’s *should* instead of listening to our own *want*. Maybe we’re saying yes when we should be saying no. Maybe we’re chasing a goal that isn’t even ours. And maybe, *just maybe,* we’re not advocating for ourself the way that we should. Because here’s the thing… When we do what’s truly aligned with who we are, *we won’t flake.* When we follow what’s authentic to us, *there’s no need to backtrack.* Yes, sometimes we have to try something to realise it’s not what we wanted after all. But that’s not flaking. That’s learning. So ask yourself… *What do you want?* *What brings you joy?* *And what the fuck are you doing to make sure you live in alignment with that?* Because that’s where the magic happens.