By: Kaniz Sumiya
TLP Letter Writer

Not an Introvert

For a long time, I thought I was introverted, that I just kept to myself because I didn’t want to bother speaking. Really, that was what I told myself, a means of consolation. The truth was that I shook at the mere thought of making friends, speaking to people, and having to maintain eye contact with someone. In fact, one of the most awful parts of high school was an activity in which our teacher forced us to shout as loud as we could, an activity to release our tension. I was able to shout, but my insecurities had straight-up attacked me, and what should’ve been a lion’s roar was the sound of a squeak.

That moment was all in one mortifying and beyond embarrassing, yet somewhere along the line, I never realized that I wasn’t just reserved but I was afraid.

I was even afraid of how my shout would sound that day.

I was afraid every single day of my life, afraid that I wasn’t good enough, not confident enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough.

I was not an introvert, I was anxious and terrified.

Eventually, I grew sick of my entrapment. Rather than one moment of realization and a flood of emotions, it had all built up over time until it just struck me. I stared at my cracked ceiling every night and I wondered about every single time I was ignored and pushed over. Most importantly, I thought about how I cared whether someone liked me or not all the time- but did I ask myself whether I liked them?

Unfortunately, this change wasn’t immediate, then again, change never is. It started with merely taking the time to get used to hearing how my ideas translate into words and mentally reciting and rephrasing the same sentence 100 times before I even let the words leave my mouth. When I did begin to use my voice, whether at get-togethers or gatherings, people looked at me in bewilderment.

Like I imagined, not everyone was happy with my change. To name a few, my aunts disliked my interjections when they spoke about appearances. My boisterous classmates hated the idea of not being able to speak over me. Even some of the people, who I thought were my friends, got angry when they saw I wouldn’t oblige to their every request.

In a way, this made me come to a bigger realization, that this fear had stemmed from a long line of judgment I had known existed and fostered in people’s minds. The only difference now was I started to ignore it. I was so sick of wishing and dreaming to the point where I knew I couldn’t see change if I didn’t commit to it myself.

This large transition was not easy- I lost many, and in a way, I lost part of my old self as soon the word “no '' was added to my dictionary. But I was okay with it.

Thinking back, this transition could have been so much easier, if only I had someone to tell me that I could rely on them and that my voice mattered. That’s why, I’m here to tell you that you do matter, and that life is too short to be living as someone else. Some words of wisdom: “Speak the truth, even if your voice shakes.”