When I was twenty-one, I wrote an application to the Salt Institute for Documentary Studies in Maine. The opening line essentially read, “I can’t write; please help.”

I applied as a recent international affairs graduate because I planned to work abroad in refugee camps and wanted to learn how to effectively document the experience of displaced people as an advocacy tool.

If you had told me then that someday I would be the founder and executive director of Stellar Story Company, I would have been very confused. I envision a scenario where I might have asked, “You mean like reading stories to children in a library?”

I didn’t appreciate the scope of personal and professional benefits of being able to tell, not just write, a great story then. Nor did I fully understand why nonprofits and businesses should create a storytelling culture within their institutions.

Two decades later, writing may still make me anxious, but I now confidently introduce myself as a storyteller and storytelling instructor. I have coached over 1,500 people from 80 countries on how to tell meaningful stories, from Vanna Howard, the first Cambodian woman elected to office in the United States, to Natalie Limoges, the pediatric brain surgeon who inspired millions with her story.

When international best-selling author Anita Diamant reflected on our work together, she wrote:

“I was grateful that Brookline.News matched me with a storytelling coach. I have been writing stories — and talking about them to audiences — for decades. But shaping a story-to-tell is a distinct craft that was new to me. My coach provided essential feedback, wise suggestions, and patient reassurance (cheerleading, actually) that helped me overcome self-doubt and stage fright.”

Truthfully, I was a bit intimidated when the organizers matched me with Diamant. What could I possibly teach her? Her reflection reinforced a lesson I often repeat to others, even if I haven’t always given myself the same grace.

We are all storytellers, and we can all improve.

I know my friend and fellow storyteller Theresa Okokon feels similarly. The only difference is that I suspect she feels more confident telling and writing stories, especially after publishing her celebrated memoir, Who I Always Was. The collection of essays has been described as, “a profoundly moving tribute to home, heritage, Blackness, and belonging.”

I describe it as another example of her gift as a storyteller to weave seemingly disparate or deeply ordinary life moments into extraordinary truths about self and society.

When Theresa and I met in our thirties at a story slam that ultimately transformed our lives, we didn’t introduce ourselves as storytellers. More likely, we would have said, “I’m a social worker who happens to tell personal stories.”

Today, with several national storytelling awards between us, we strongly encourage others to tell their stories because, as we say at Stellar, “You never know where one great story will lead.”

Sometimes, I think I am an effective storytelling coach because I internalized for too long the belief that only certain people, particularly those with credentials, could be extraordinary storytellers. It keeps me humble. Instead of approaching a session as an expert, as I feared Diamant might expect, I start with curiosity. Who is this person, and how can I help elevate their natural storytelling style? What can I share about storytelling that I have learned from others? And what can I learn from them to be a better storyteller or coach?

Because, again, we are all storytellers, and we can all improve.