Five Laracons. That's how many I'd attended before I finally worked up the nerve to give my first tech talk. And honestly? I was terrified.

At my very first Laracon, I knew people from Twitter (I'll forever call it that), but I was scared to death to walk up and actually say hello. There's something weird about seeing someone you've interacted with online but never spoken to in person. What I learned, though, is that the Laravel community is different. It's welcoming in a way that makes those awkward introductions feel natural. Nobody thinks it's weird when you walk up with a handshake and just start talking.

The Spark That Started Everything

Everything changed after Aaron Francis's talk at Laracon Nashville, "Publishing Your Work". His message was simple: you can just do things. You can just put yourself out there. I'd heard variations of this advice for years, but something about hearing it in that context, surrounded by people who were actually doing it, lit a fire in me.

That talk pushed me and a friend to start our own podcast. We don't care if anyone tunes in, we mostly do it to catch up with each other. But it got me comfortable with putting my voice out there, with being a little more public about my work.

Since starting it, we've managed to produce over 15 episodes and attracted more than 25 subscribers with over 1,000 downloads. While not many, the fact that even one person actually tunes in still blows my mind. It feels surreal that anyone would care about what we have to say.

It gets even wilder when I receive messages from listeners referring to the show, or when the co-founder of Transistor FM publicly tweets congratulations about my new job. These moments remind me that putting yourself out there, even in small ways, creates connections you never expected.

The Imposter Syndrome Trap

For the longest time, I didn't share much of my work publicly. There was always this voice in my head saying someone else had already done it better, someone already knew what I knew, so why bother? Every developer deals with this imposter syndrome, but it kept me quiet for years.

I'd listen to talk after talk and think, "Maybe one day I could give a talk." Then immediately: "That's a dumb idea. There are tons of people better at this than me."

Here's what I wish someone had told me earlier:

Giving a talk doesn't require elite status or being the all-knowing authority on a subject. You just need to be passionate about something and willing to share what you've learned.

What I'm ridiculously obsessive about is clean code and clean architecture. When code reads like a book, when things are easy and maintainable.

At Laracon Denver, Margaret from the Vehikl team asked if I'd be interested in giving a talk at Laravel Worldwide and said I should seriously consider it. Dan (also from Vehikl) and I discussed some potential ideas, including this clean, elegant Laravel approach I wanted to explore. He encouraged me to submit something.

But then the imposter syndrome kicked in hard. I sat on it, wrestling with that familiar voice telling me someone else could give this talk better than me. Everything had already been talked about, right? Even as I thought through my ideas, I kept thinking someone more qualified should be up there instead. I'd still want to tune in and listen because it would be good content, but why should it be me giving it? I would love to hear this talk from someone more qualified who knows every detail about clean architecture.

Then, a week later, I got the message: "Hey, we have an opening if you're interested. We would love to have you! It's in two weeks - we completely understand if that's too soon."

The Two-Week Sprint

I'm the kind of person who sets ridiculous goals and then can't say no to them, even when they terrify me. So I said yes, and immediately, I felt that countdown clock start ticking in the corner of my vision - like those 48-hour murder mystery shows.

Those two weeks were insanely intense. I'd work my day job, spend evenings being a dad with my wife and son, then from 9 PM until 1 or 2 AM, I'd work on the talk. Slides, research, content.. clean code is a massive topic, so narrowing it down was its own challenge.

Not an hour passed without me thinking about this talk. It consumed my thoughts completely. The stress was unlike anything I'd experienced before - anxiety levels I didn't know I was capable of reaching.

The day before the talk, I woke up ready to practice. I was three slides in when I noticed the animations were wrong. Next slide: completely out of order. I felt my stomach spinning, like I might actually throw up. For an introvert like me, the thought of going into this unprepared and looking like an idiot in front of the Laravel community was devastating.

Practice, Practice, Practice

By the end of that rough day, Jacob Bennett and Dalton McCleery reached out offering to listen to practice runs. This was the best thing that happened during the entire process.

Their feedback was so invaluable. They helped me refine the rough edges and gave me confidence that the content was solid.

I went as far as recording myself, watching it back, and making adjustments. I wrote down everything word-for-word. I used SuperWhisper to record myself going through the slides, then copied and pasted exactly what I said. This way, if my frenetic energy took over and I lost my train of thought, I had a safety net to get back on track.

I started with bullet points, but even before the presentation, I was getting nervous about losing my train of thought and going completely off the rails. When you have frenetic energy like mine, conversations can go anywhere. Having everything deliberately planned out, then practicing it over and over until it didn't sound robotic, made all the difference.

Showtime

The talk went well. Over 130 slides, countless animations to perfect, and probably 50-70 hours of work crammed into two weeks. The community feedback was positive, and honestly, it felt like something a younger version of me needed to hear.

To Anyone Considering Speaking

If you're thinking about giving a Laravel talk, a meetup presentation, or any kind of tech talk: do it. Yes, it's a roller coaster. Yes, it's stressful. But the Laravel community is incredibly supportive, and you don't need to be an expert on everything.

Find something you're truly passionate about. For me, it was clean code and architecture. For you, it might be something entirely different - just listen to that inner voice. The subject itself matters less than the enthusiasm you bring to it.

Practice with real people if you can. Those feedback sessions with Jacob and Dalton were worth more than all my solo practice combined. Feel free to reach out to me if you want a practice audience, too.

And if you're like me, someone with nervous frenetic energy who talks too fast when anxious, consider writing out your key points word-for-word. It's not a crutch; it's preparation.

The Laravel community gave me so much over the years. Getting to give something back, even in a small way, made every stressful moment worth it. Maybe it's time for your voice to be heard too.