From Panic to Purpose: My Journey to Speaking at TEDx

Moments after taking the stage. This is my transformation in real time.

Another week, another panic attack. Just kidding. Kind of.

If you caught last week’s podcast episode (shameless plug, go listen), then you already know we’re talking about something tender and transformational: how the most gut-wrenching, sweaty-palmed moments of our lives can also be the ones that crack us wide open.

In usual Rachel LaForce fashion, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s back up.

Panic Isn’t Just Panic. It’s a Signal

I had exactly 1 panic attack in my entire life until 2020. I was a junior in college, my boyfriend at the time had just been hauled off to rehab for a very severe addiction, and I was running late for a final. I was sitting on a packed train car riding through a tunnel, and my heart began to race. It felt like the train was undulating like a coiled snake. I thought I was dying. Dramatic? Maybe. Real? Absolutely. I think this goes without saying, but I survived. While I’ve always struggled with anxiety on and off, I never found it debilitating, just your run-of-the-mill Millennial anxiety due to low-fat diets, a crashing economy, and the pressure to nail your MySpace Top 8. It wasn’t until decades later that these untriggered panic attacks slid back in like an ex in your DM’s. 

Towards the middle of 2020, however, something shifted. These panic attacks ramped up like they were getting paid by the hour. I did my best to ignore them and chalk it up to the fact that the world was ending. And yet somehow, despite being in a supportive and loving marriage, birthing two healthy children, launching a successful business, and frankly, my life being the most stable it had ever been, my nervous system CLEARLY didn’t get the memo. I went through the motions - blood tests, hormone panels, holistic appointments. All the signs said I was fine. Except, clearly, I wasn’t. It felt like my body and my mind were not connecting. My mind knew I was safe, but my body was 99.9% sure I was being chased by a bear. After really sitting with this, I have had some realizations that feel both revolutionary and like a “yeah no duh” - so let’s dive in. 

What I understand now is that my body wasn’t broken. It was just loud. I kept saying, ‘But why are these panic attacks happening now?’. Upon further reflection, I wondered, ‘Maybe they were always happening, but my drinking kept them muted’. You can’t be drunk and have a panic attack at the same time - it’s chemically impossible* (*not real medical advice, I went to school for theater). When I speak of my past relationship with alcohol, I think people are always surprised at how contained yet damaging it was. Maybe my body was sending me signals FOR YEARS, I just made sure I had enough vodka and Red Bull to drown it out. And now, almost 8 years booze free, my body was screaming at me on behalf of the parts of me I had ignored: my inner child, my ancestors, my deepest creative self begging to be seen without the gloss or the “I’m fine, thanks!”.

My nervous system was created when my Mom was in the womb of my Grandma. My Grandma’s nervous system did help to keep her safe; thankfully, due to generational healing, I no longer need hyper-vigilance to keep me safe. And while it breaks my heart in two to understand how deeply my Grandma (and my Mom) lived parts of their lives in fight or flight, I am not willing to take that with me. It is because of their experiences that I honor them by reclaiming my self-safety. 

Because here’s the real kicker: panic shows up when we’re about to level up. When our bodies sense we’re stepping into something that matters. Our fear isn’t random. It’s protective. But that doesn’t mean it’s in charge.

Standing Still Inside the Storm

Right before giving my TEDx talk, I was mid-panic backstage. Camera-ready, mic’d up, and genuinely wondering if I could sneak out a side door in full glam. Caroline (my brand manager, co-regulator, and real-life cheerleader) and I laughed through it, but the panic was real. I could feel every past version of myself sitting on my chest. The panic I had been experiencing wasn’t mine; it was theirs. 

I felt each and every version of them, I cried for them and for me. I chose to accept that this panic would be here until it knew it was safe to go away. That I didn’t need it anymore. So, it was finally my time to shine. “Up next is Rachel LaForce”, the announcer said. 

Despite all of the panic in my body.  I stayed. I showed up. I took my moment and I taught my body, in real time, that it was safe to be seen. No wine to take the edge off. No hiding behind jokes. Just me. Fully present.

And something wild happened.

The panic didn’t disappear - it transformed. On that stage, I was both in my body and outside of it. The talk landed. The audience laughed and cried, and clapped. I received a standing ovation for being myself. The moment I stepped offstage, all I could feel was peace. It was as if all of the past versions of me had their own graduation. They were finally ready to let me go and move on. My nervous system finally believed me when I said, “We’re okay.” And we are. We are safe. 

So, What’s the Point?

Here’s what I’ve learned (and am still learning):

1. Acknowledge Where You Are. 

   Before we try to fix, improve, or “high vibe” our way out of anything, just pause. Ask yourself: What’s here right now? Panic? Dread? Butterflies? All of the above? Your feelings are data. They’re not problems. Start there.

2. Keep Showing Up. Especially When It’s Cringe. 

   That moment when you want to back out of the audition, cancel the call, ghost the opportunity? Yeah. That’s the portal. Walk through it anyway. Every time you do, your body learns: we survive this. That’s what regulation is.

3. Celebrate the Lightning Moments. 

   You know that weird little tingle when you post something brave or finally pitch yourself after stalling for three months? That’s lightning. Don’t dismiss it. Let it land. Text a friend. Take a deep breath. You’re doing the thing.

4. You’re Not Alone. Share Your Story. 

   This isn’t about going viral. It’s about letting yourself be seen, so someone else can whisper, “me too.” Your story might be the reminder someone else needs to take their next step.

5. Excellence > Perfection. 

   You don’t need to be flawless to be impactful. You just need to be honest, intentional, and a little bit gutsy. That’s more than enough.

Maybe this post is your sign. Your lightning moment. Your “keep going” even when it’s hard. And if today, you can’t do it for yourself? Do it for the people who need your voice, your weirdness, your wisdom, your story. Do it for that younger version of you who thought she had to be perfect to be loved.

We’re not here to play small. We’re here to show up. Sweaty palms and all. So if you're walking the edge of fear and purpose right now, same. You’re not alone. 

Love you, mean it.