Louder Isn't the Same as Heard
A B2B tech sales manager, a wrecked voice, and how presentation coaching turned pitching into speaking.
Priya Chandran worked as a senior sales manager at Vantree Systems, an American cloud infrastructure company, and in that world the rules are clear: you pitch. On every stage, in every meeting, at every opportunity. Convincing people loudly is not a skill there—it's the atmosphere. When she moved from the established platform division into Vantree's newly launched enterprise product line—same hierarchy level, new territory—she saw stage presence for what it can be: a career-opening move. Get seen presenting well, and doors open that job titles don't. There was just one problem. Or three. Her presentations were too tech, too fact, too "bro." She'd mastered the house style perfectly—all data, all confidence, all volume—and somehow, too little impact. The style that filled the room left the room unmoved.
And her voice was paying the bill. Totally overstressed, pushed past its limits pitch after pitch. She was, quite literally, wearing out her instrument trying to be heard.
How the presentation coaching started
With a refusal. My first intervention was one sentence: I'll see you again once your voice problems have been medically treated. You don't build stage presence on a damaged instrument, and a communication coach who ignores a physical warning sign isn't coaching—they're accelerating the crash. She went to an ENT specialist. She got treated. She came back, and we began a ten-week coaching engagement, weekly sessions, built entirely around her own pitch decks and her own upcoming presentations.
Then the real work began: how to be more sound in the noise—in both senses. We worked on story patterns and how to execute them, on metaphors that carry technical content without flattening it, on winning audience empathy instead of demanding audience attention. In short: how to be a fascinating public speaker rather than a relentless one.
Results of the public speaking coaching
The immediate effects were visible—and audible. A healthier voice. Better-structured presentations: her average deck dropped from forty-two slides to sixteen, because the narrative was doing the work the bullet points used to fake. She learned to choose the right story for the right room, and internal audiences responded with something her pitches had rarely earned: applause. The midterm effect was the career move she'd been aiming at all along. Six months after coaching began, she was invited to present at Vantree's global sales kickoff in front of 600 people, having previously presented only in rotating twelve-person regional forums. The expansion proposal she pitched there, using the new structure, closed at 1.4 million dollars that same quarter — the largest deal her division closed all year. Not because she pushed harder. Because people wanted to listen.
“I’m relieved. Everything got easier on stage.” Ease, notably, was never in her vocabulary before—pitching culture doesn’t sell ease.
And the shift underneath it all: “I feel way more self-confident, and I trust my audience more.”
-
Story patterns and their execution, metaphors that make technical content land, voice-conscious delivery, and building audience empathy — not generic stage tricks.
-
Voice strain needs medical treatment first; coaching resumes afterwards and focuses on sustainable delivery, so the voice stops paying for the performance.
-
Yes — especially in pitch-heavy cultures. In this case, a senior B2B tech sales manager moved from overstressed pitching to a keynote-length slot at her company's global sales kickoff, and closed her division's largest deal of the year in the same quarter.
That second half is the real finding. Stage fright and stage force have the same root: not trusting the room. Fix that, and the volume takes care of itself.
Katja Schleicher speaks and trains on communication, storytelling and intercultural (mis)understanding in English, German and Dutch.
Bookings: office@interview-training.eu · interview-training.eu · @MediaCoaching
