the rest is still unwritten

Just to be clear, you just pictured my entire existence of the past ten minutes and probably the next two. Speaking in public scares me to death, and I am deathly afraid right now.

I was always a shy kid, although I’ve cracked enough of my shell for shy to be the last word my friends would use to describe me. Not that they’ve every witnessed the way I grew up or the person I am at home. I never voiced my opinions as a child, or spoke up about anything; mainly because I did one, and then I was reprimanded for talking back to my parents. After that, I just kept my thoughts to myself.

Growing up in an environment where you can’t freely speak your mind really affects the way you behave in a setting where speaking up in encouraged, which is probably how I developed my fear of public speaking.

Picture yourself, standing in front of an auditorium of parents with your graduating class behind you. You won an art award and were told ahead of time to write down two sentences to say when you accepted the award. Two sentences, thats it. And yet the same thing is happening: your heart is pounding and your cheeks flush. Except this time, there’s a spotlight shining directly in your eyes and you can’t see anything. You panic and start to stutter. That was me in the sixth grade.

Now picture yourself sitting in your seat, voluntarily raising your hand and waiting to be called on. Remember, you voluntarily raised your hand. You want to be called on to answer the question. But inside, the same thing is happening: your heart is pounding and your cheeks flush, as you wait patiently for your teacher to scan the room to pick someone. Your name is called and you recite your answer the same exact way you’ve rehearsed it in your head for the past two minutes of waiting. And your heart rate speeds up as you take deep, slow breaths to calm yourself down. That is me in basically every class.

Now, for the last time, picture yourself standing before 200 people in the cafeteria, with a microphone in your hand as you are about to host an event for your organization. The DJ came late and there was no time for a soundcheck, so you’re just winging it without ever talking into a microphone before. The same thing happens: your heart is pounding and your cheeks flush. You try to hold the microphone far from your mouth, but then nobody can hear you. You’re forced to talk into the microphone and hear your own voice project back to you. That was me last year.

And now here I am, standing here, still alive and hopefully with pale cheeks and a steady heart rate, feeling much more confident than the person I was in the sixth grade. Feeling stronger than the person I am in class. Feeling braver than the person I was last year. But I am still deathly afraid.