Michaela's IMAX stage fail became a lesson in laughter, resilience, and public speaking confidence. Here's how she turned it around.
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Have you ever stood in front of 360 people, only to be slowly pulled off the stage like a cartoon character? No? Welcome to my world.
Life throws challenges at all of us - moments that make us doubt ourselves and situations where everything seems to go wrong. But it's precisely these experiences that shape us. They are a part of every journey.
And yes, I've experienced many such moments. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to write about them today. These experiences have made me grow and taught me how important it is not to give up, even in difficult times.
Today, I regularly stand on stage as the host of the Fuckup Nights in Munich, talking about what we can learn from mistakes and setbacks.
This topic is very close to my heart because I've often experienced it myself. And because I know that there's a valuable lesson behind every failure, I'd like to share a story from my early days.
It's the story of how I learned to handle such moments - and to keep my sense of humor intact.
During my studies, I worked at an IMAX cinema. My job was to introduce 3D movies. Sounds simple, right?
The reality, however, was a bit more intimidating.
The theater was enormous, like a modern amphitheater. 360 people sat in steep rows above me, while behind me a giant screen loomed, as tall as a five-story building.
Just the thought of speaking in front of such an audience made my heart race.
My goal that day was clear: to deliver my announcement flawlessly.
"Welcome to IMAX 3D! Please put on your 3D glasses..." That was the line I had practiced countless times.
But the moment I stepped on stage, everything felt different. The crowd staring at me, the microphone in my hand, the enormous stage - I felt my nerves rising. My breathing seemed to stop, and my heart pounded as if it were trying to find an escape route.
Still, I began to speak. The first words came out smoothly, but then I noticed something strange. The distance between me and the microphone started to grow - and I couldn't figure out why.
At first, I thought it was just my nerves playing tricks on me. But then I realized that my colleague backstage was playing a prank on me, slowly pulling the microphone cord.
So subtly that I only noticed it when the giggles from the audience grew louder.
Picture this: In the middle of my announcement, I suddenly had to chase the microphone. I kept talking, trying not to lose the audience, diligently delivering my lines while being pulled step by step to the right side of the stage.
The microphone moved, and I followed it until I finished my last sentence standing against the theater's side wall. The microphone was gone.
And I? I was left standing there in the middle of this absurd situation, like a wet dog.
At that moment, I felt like I had completely failed. All I wanted was to nail this one task. And now I was standing there on stage without a microphone.
It would have been easy to run away or freeze in embarrassment. But that would have only made the situation worse.
So, I chose to do something else: I laughed with the audience - loudly and honestly.
Then I said, "Well, that must have been the 4D effect - and I was the special guest!"
The audience laughed even louder, but this time it felt different. They were no longer laughing at the situation but with me.
It was almost as if I had been a warm-up act for the audience, setting a positive mood for the show.
Looking back, I've reflected on that moment. The people in the audience didn't know me; they had no reason to judge or evaluate me.
They weren't laughing at me as a person but at the situational humor. Yet, in my head, I had convinced myself that they thought I was incompetent.
This assumption was wrong - and that was the most valuable lesson I took from this experience: not to overinterpret and not to make assumptions.
Our fear of being judged often stems from the stories we tell ourselves. We worry about what others might think and automatically imagine the worst-case scenarios.
But in most cases, it's not true. People are often far less critical than we believe and are preoccupied with their own concerns.
This experience also taught me how important it is not to take yourself too seriously.
By laughing at myself and showing vulnerability, I took the weight out of the moment.
Instead of sinking into the ground with shame, I took control of the narrative. Humor became a tool to turn apparent defeats into moments of learning.
Since that day, I've no longer been afraid of public speaking - at least not on stages with fewer than 360 people.
Of course, I still get nervous sometimes, but the memory of that moment reminds me not to take things too seriously. Even if something goes wrong, it's rarely as bad as we imagine.
What I learned from this experience goes far beyond the stage. It showed me the value of authenticity and the acceptance that no one is perfect.
Mistakes are human and often what connects us to others.
So, if you ever find yourself in an embarrassing situation, remember this: You can use it. Learn to laugh about it and remind yourself that we all experience such moments.
They make us human - and often stronger.
Edited by
Michaela Forthuber
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Let's transform our perception of failure and use it as a catalyst for growth.
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