The invitation came out of nowhere. HR called me in the week before the event. Apparently, they needed someone who could be MC in English. And while I’ve worked as an auditor for three years, not once had I used English formally in my role. So when this opportunity landed on my lap, I knew I couldn't let it pass.
But of course, as soon as I said yes, the insecurities kicked in. That inner voice? Oh, it had a lot to say.
"She speaks better English than you."
"He’s way more charismatic on stage."
"You? You’re just lucky."
And yet, thank God, I’ve lived long enough to recognize that voice. Not as truth, but as fear in disguise. I didn’t try to fight it this time. I let the thoughts come, let them echo, then quietly watched them pass. Maybe those people are better. But this opportunity didn’t land in their inbox. It landed in mine. So I’ll take it, own it, and if I mess up, well, then I’ll learn something.
The night before, I couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the green tea I had earlier (mental note: don’t do that again). Or maybe it was just nerves. My eyes were heavy, but my thoughts were loud. Every time I tried to read something on my Kindle, it slipped out of my hands. My body was tired, but my mind refused to power down.
Then came the day.
My hands and feet were ice. My brain wasn’t buzzing anymore, but my tongue kept tripping over itself. And for the first time, I truly understood why people warm up their voices before going on stage. You know, doing that ridiculous "brrr-brrr-lalala-aiueo" thing to loosen their jaw and get the words flowing.
And then suddenly, it was over.
Warmth returned to my body. My shoulders relaxed. I blinked and thought, Wait… that was it? I wanted to say something profound, something reflective, but nothing came. People were already exiting the room. I shook some hands. Then I went home and had dinner with my daughter.
It was one of those days you’re sure will go terribly only to find out, against all odds, it turned out just fine. Maybe even great (at least to me personally). I told my daughter all about it. She wasn’t quite as impressed as I hoped, but I couldn't care. I went to bed that night completely spent… and completely content.
I didn’t expect to enjoy being an MC. At first, I just saw it as a chance to finally put my English to good use. But I was wrong. I ended up loving every second of it. Even the cold hands. Even the tangled tongue. I enjoyed the process especially. The rehearsals, the tweaks, the preparation. I loved facing challenge when things didn’t go as planned and I had to change the script mid-way. I loved watching the playback afterward, catching moments I could polish for next time (hopefully there's another). But most of all, I loved how it made me feel. Like I had reconnected with a version of myself I hadn’t seen in a while. A more confident me. It was a reminder that part of me is still here, just waiting for the right place and time.
And if another opportunity comes around?
Yes. I’d MC again in a heartbeat.
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