Hello Reader,

When you’re asked to give a presentation, what is the first thing you think about?

Is it what you do well?

Or does your mind immediately begin listing everything you’re not good at?

Maybe you worry that you don’t sound confident enough. Perhaps you use too many slides, forget your words, speak too quickly, or struggle to command the room. Before you have even started preparing, you are already concentrating on your weaknesses.

I used to do this too.

Then I heard a story about a tennis player that changed the way I thought about improvement.

The Tennis Player and the Forehand

A tennis player was training with his coach. He had a powerful forehand—far stronger than the rest of his game—but his backhand needed work.

Naturally, he expected the coach to spend most of their practice time fixing his backhand. Instead, the coach kept asking him to practise his forehand.

Again and again.

Eventually, the player asked, “Why are we spending so much time on something I’m already good at? Shouldn’t we be working on my weakness?”

The coach’s answer was simple: the player’s forehand was not merely another shot. It was the part of his game that could make him exceptional.

The backhand needed to become reliable, of course. But his forehand could become unstoppable.

That is the idea behind Maximize Your Maximum.

We often invest enormous energy in repairing our weaknesses while neglecting the strengths that could truly distinguish us. We try to become reasonably good at everything—and risk becoming unforgettable at nothing.

The Same is true of Public Speaking

One of my managers encouraged me to pursue public speaking, even though it is not an easy career.

But the most valuable lesson was not simply that I should speak more often. It was that I needed to understand what made me different as a speaker.

For me, one of the biggest questions was humor.

I naturally use a lot of it when I speak. But I sometimes wondered whether it was becoming a weakness. Would people take me seriously? Did humor make my message feel less important? Should I reduce it so that I could sound more like a “serious” speaker?

My manager—and later my friend Natasha—kept reminding me:

“That is your strength.”

Many people work incredibly hard to become funny onstage. They practise their timing, search for clever lines, and try to create moments of laughter. If humor comes naturally to you, why would you erase it?

The fear underneath my question was not really about humor. It was about credibility. I believed that if people laughed, they might not respect the deeper message.

But humor and depth are not opposites.

Humor can make an audience feel safe. It can create connection, lower resistance, and make a difficult idea easier to hear. It can help people remember a message long after the presentation is over.

The answer was not to lose my humor. It was to learn how to use it with intention.

That distinction matters.

Maximizing a strength does not mean using it without discipline. A powerful forehand still needs control. In the same way, humor must serve the message rather than distract from it. Storytelling must lead somewhere. Research must clarify rather than overwhelm. Energy must engage the audience without exhausting them.

Your strength should not take over your presentation. It should give the presentation its character.

What Is Your Forehand?

Perhaps humor is not your strength. So, what is?

Are you a gifted storyteller who can turn an ordinary experience into a memorable lesson?

Are you brilliant at reading the room and sensing when the audience needs more energy, more explanation, or a moment of silence?

Can you create metaphors and analogies that help people see familiar ideas in an entirely new way?

Are you an exceptional researcher who brings surprising evidence and credibility to every argument?

Perhaps you ask questions that make people think deeply. Maybe you simplify complicated ideas, speak with unusual honesty, or make every person in the room feel as if you are talking directly to them.

There are many ways to be a powerful speaker.

The mistake is assuming that there is only one.

You do not need to sound like your favorite keynote speaker. You do not need to copy the confidence, humor, emotion, or style of someone else. Their greatest strength may not be yours—and yours may be something they could never reproduce naturally.

Develop your weaknesses—But build around your strengths

Of course, weaknesses cannot always be ignored.

If you regularly run over time, you need to improve your discipline. If your slides are difficult to read, simplify them. If nerves prevent you from communicating clearly, develop tools to manage them.

Your weaknesses should not be allowed to undermine your message.

But fixing weaknesses and building greatness are not the same thing.

Working on your weaknesses can make you competent. Developing your strengths can make you distinctive.

So, the next time someone asks you to give a presentation, resist the urge to begin with everything you lack.

Begin with a different question:

What is the strongest part of me as a speaker—and how can I build this presentation around it?

Then practise it. Refine it. Learn how to use it deliberately. Give it the same attention that the tennis player gave his forehand.

Because your most natural quality may be the very thing you are tempted to hide. It may also be the thing your audience remembers, values, and needs most from you.

Don’t lose your strength because you are afraid it will not fit someone else’s definition of a good speaker.

Know your forehand.

Then maximize your maximum.