Sunday, April 4, 2010

Failing Words (65/90)

As much as I love words, I struggle with them. A lot.

Communicating is always--always-- frustrating for me.

And interestingly enough, for as long as I can remember, I've always been voted the spokesperson. I've been speaking in public since I was little. Because my love for words was apparent and I had the ability to mask my shyness, I was the one set before a crowd with a microphone in my hand.

You'd think that over time I'd become more articulate and less uncomfortable.

Not so. It's been exactly the opposite for me, actually.

I cringe at the thought of speaking in front of people, formally or informally.

Matter-of-factly, in my marketing class it is required that we act as the spokesperson to the class after our small group discussions at least three times in order to get full participation points. The answers don't really matter as much as the communication does. In 13 weeks, I've spoken only once thus far. The thought of it alone makes my stomach turn and my chest tighten.

What's worse is failing with words in front of those far more precious than a classroom full of strangers. More often than not I feel misunderstood, and I'm quickly coming to realize that issue is mine alone. There is no one to blame or feel frustrated with but myself.

I spent almost an entire year in silence after I moved to Florida. I felt that my speech at that time in my life was wholly inadequate. Instead I was never without headphones or my journal. I lived in my own world, locked away in my head.

And there are days when I wish it was that easy again. That I could be silent for long stretches at a time. Avoiding the miscommunications that leave me feeling involuntarily locked away in my head.


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