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Most people think storytelling is about getting the mechanics “right”.

A stronger hook.
Cleaner structure.
Tighter ending.

And yes… those things matter. But they ain’t everything.

If you’ve ever told a story that was solid on paper and still didn’t land, you might’ve started questioning those mechanics. Wondering if something was out of place. Or even missing completely.

Here’s a subtle shift that helps:

Storytelling isn’t only the delivery of a story.
It’s also the ongoing management of elements.

Think of storytelling like a three-legged stool.

One leg is you, the teller.
One leg is the story itself.
One leg is the audience.

This isn’t about each leg carrying the same weight. It’s about noticing where the weight is shifting.

So being in “balance” doesn’t mean symmetry. It means responsiveness.

Depending on what you emphasize, you may topple over. The stool doesn’t fall because one leg is “bad.” It tips when one leg is doing too much or too little work.

That’s one reason stories can feel awkward. Flat. Slightly off. Like, “this should be working… why isn’t it?”

Sometimes stories tip because they’re teller-heavy.

You’ve got insight. Education. A clear point of view. All good things.

But when the teller's leg dominates, the audience ends up watching you think instead of being invited to think with you.

Where does the audience actually enter this story?
Do they… or are they just observing?

Other stories tip because they’re story-heavy.

These are accurate. Well-researched. Details for days. And yet… nothing moves.

That’s because the story is carrying all the weight, but no one is being oriented. There’s no tension, no invitation to reconsider something, no reason this story matters right now.

What is this story asking the audience to rethink?
Do they know that? And have you invited them?

Then there are audience-heavy stories.

These bend so far toward relatability, they begin to get “pandery.” A “Yes-manification.” Everything feels agreeable, and the truth gets sanded down… forgettable.

Comfort isn’t the same as connection.

What truth got shrunk to keep this easy?

Most storytelling advice focuses on strengthening the story.
Better storytellers learn to manage stool-leg relationships.

Because stories aren’t fixed objects. They’re living organisms. Audiences talk back. Sometimes with comments. Sometimes with silence. Sometimes, with a look, you can feel in your chest.

Good storytellers notice that. Great ones adjust.

That’s the difference between pandering and being attuned.

It means knowing when your connection to the story needs strengthening.
When the story itself needs more tension.
And when the audience needs a clearer entry point.

🛠️ The PHacilitator’s Corner:

The Three-Leg Check

Think of a story you’ve told recently.
Could be a post. A pitch. A convo that didn’t land how you hoped.

Diagnose it.

1. Teller:
   Where was I most present in this story?
   (My insight, my experience, my perspective.)

2. Story:
   Where were the details doing the heavy lifting?
   (Facts, context, explanation, sequence.)

3. Audience:
   Where did I invite the audience to think, feel, or locate themselves?

Then answer one more question:

👉 Which leg was carrying the most weight?

That’s your adjustment point.

Next time you tell that story, try shifting one thing:

That’s relationship management in action.

How’d I do?