A number of years later I found myself on a school debating team being responsible to sum up at the end. I rambled on for hours until I spotted my mother bright red in the audience gesticulating frantically for me to finish off and sit down. My final speech was just as humiliating. I stood in front of my high school in a speaking competition and went blank when I was met by the sickening sea of faces. I had to read the entire speech word for word from my quivering and crumpled notes.

And so when my father asked me to speak at my mother’s 60th birthday recently, I nearly threw up. ‘Of course I’ll do it,’ I gagged at my expectant father. ‘It would be an honour,’ I threw in.

I drove home feeling ill. ‘What’s wrong?’ Roxi asked uneasily when I walked through the door. Wide eyed I explained. Roxi grew pale and very quiet… because like me, and many others I’m sure, the mere thought of public speaking makes her palms sweat and mouth dry.

There's just no getting out of it...
I spent weeks thinking of ways to get out of it. The Finn excuse was unfortunately covered. Aunty Adair, Roxi’s calm and super efficient sister, was babysitting. And so instead, I went into denial.

It was only while Roxi hurtled us through the traffic to get to the birthday restaurant venue on time, that I decided what I was going to say. I decided that given my history, I would keep it short and to the point.

On arrival I realised my fear was completely justified. The restaurant spilled over with my mothers friends, some of whom I’d known since birth... and others I’d only heard about. When the starters arrived I could not eat. I could not speak. All I could do was swig rapidly on my fishbowl glass of chardonnay. Eventually, once the room had started looking decidedly less defined, it was time for me to stand up and address the crowd.

The best speech is the most heartfelt one
Once up and looking at my mother, I grew calm. Suddenly it was easy to say how I felt. Firstly, that she’d been an important influence in my life. That she’d always encouraged me to have it all. She had shown me that it was possible to travel the world, be true to my heart, follow a career that I love and still be a good mother.

There was only one bone that I had to pick with her. That I am a crap homemaker – I do not cook very well and I’m not a great cleaner. Luckily for me, Roxi rocks at both.

And so my negative memories of speaking in public have faded into the background of this most recent experience. And I am left feeling that, despite the potential to be hissed at and booed off stage, some things are just worth speaking out for.

What fears have you overcome to show your love for your mother? Share your stories with us in the comment box below.

Susan Newham is a journalist living in Cape Town with her partner Roxi Blake, who's a graphic designer. Susan fell pregnant after being inseminated with the semen of an identity release donor.