Growing up, my dad always teased me about "singing like a canary." See, when I was a child, I would always go and tell him everything—everything my mother and brothers did or said. I was Daddy's eyes and ears, and everyone knew it.
As I became an adult, I learned to be silent. Silent so people wouldn’t judge or twist my words. Silent to keep the peace, to spare people’s feelings, and to avoid making waves. Over time, you become a more bound version of yourself.
I woke up the other day and realized I had lost my voice. I don’t sing anymore. No, I don’t mean tattling. I mean I stopped sharing. I stopped talking and truly communicating with those around me. I became “an island unto myself.”
But this is my breakout debut.
Welcome to my stage.
Listen to my songs.
I promise you’ll laugh and cry.
Hopefully, you’ll relate to some—and be encouraged by others.
I’ve found that it’s easier to write than to speak. I can text, email, or write you letters all day long. But if you want to have a conversation? I’m a stuttering mess. I’m horrible at holding conversations—and definitely at initiating them. I know there are other introverts like me who struggle with this. Do you ever feel embarrassed or inadequate? I know I do.
I can’t help but be a little jealous of those who speak so freely and confidently. My husband is one of them. I’m enthralled by how he can capture people’s attention. This man can literally get people to do whatever he needs—he’s just that smooth.
Please, conversation gods—tell me, how does one gain these skills?
Who knows? Maybe by finding my voice here, I’ll find it out there.
