Yeah, well, at least I don’t live in my mom’s basement and sleep on Star Wars sheets.

I have been talking to myself in the car for the past week. I have been making amazing points and delivering riveting anecdotes and I have been issuing compelling statements.

About the benefits of blogging.

As the web-type-person in my office, I deal with those who blog – by “deal with,” I mean I’m editing content and I’m helping craft catchy headlines and I’m encouraging them and sometimes prompting with post ideas.

Like it’s my mother-fluffing-job.

Because it is.

For 24 hours a week, anyway.

I’ve been a blogger for eight years – I’ve been on Twitter for nearly that long – you’d think talking to a room full of people who are still pretty fresh-faced about the whole endeavor would be a piece of cake.

Yeah, well.

The thing is, sometimes I think the reason why I love blogging and social media so much is because like mannnnnny people who love the internet, I am just a wee bit introverted. I don’t love the spotlight. All eyes on me? NO THANKS.

I have a bit of social ineptitude that does prefer to just quietly crank out amazing work and instead of being in your face with a “look at me! look at me!” attitude, well, I’d rather hang back at the wall. With my iPhone in one hand. Probably tweeting, “look at me! look at me!”

My personality is part of what makes me good at what I do.

I knew that material better than anyone in that room.

I practiced my presentation so many times that I’m sure that if my dog could talk, he could recite the benefits of blogging and having an online presence. I was prepared and even if I hadn’t rehearsed, I know my stuff.

I let someone’s lack of faith in me shake me. I let someone else make me feel like I wasn’t capable of talking about the work that I do, the work that I’ve done. I’m frustrated by that – the way I let it shake me, the way I lost faith in my ability to somehow overcome my inevitable nerves (I may know what I’m talking about but I’d still prefer smaller groups and intimate conversations than presenting to large groups) and give a kick ass presentation.

I gave someone the power to make me feel like I might fail.

I made myself miserable about it for several days, constantly practicing, constantly worrying about what might go wrong.

I got so used to the car practicing that tonight, HOURS after I delivered my presentation, I found myself talking to myself again – what I should have or could have said. Or what I will say if I have a follow up presentation.

I might be a socially awkward, introverted blogger, but I’m competent and smart. I’m capable and I’m personable. I know my stuff. And today, I showed it.

{huge sigh of relief}