One Way I’ve Grown This Year: Speaking Up for Myself

I’ve stayed quiet for most of my life, wrapped in silence like it’s a weighted blanket. It always felt natural for me to stay there.

Growing up, I was extremely shy and uncertain of the loud world I saw before me. I watched others get praised for being outgoing, vocal, and exuberant. Whereas for me, I was overlooked. Invisible. Like a shadow in the background. Just there… with no one noticing me.

When it came time to tell stories to friends, speak in class, or engage with unfamiliar people, I had a hard time communicating. I’d get so anxious and so nervous to speak up and use my voice that I’d literally shake with fear.

I remember in elementary school we’d often read chapters out loud in front of the class. The “game” was called Popcorn. It’s where you read a few paragraphs and then pick out a classmate to read the following paragraphs.

Every time we played, I was frozen in fear of being chosen. I’d nervously fiddle with my fingers underneath my desk. I’d start turning red, blushing with that nervousness. It was hard to bear. I had all of these emotions that I couldn’t regulate.

Of course, everyone eventually had to take a turn.

I just remember the teacher telling me to speak up the whole time because my voice was too low, apparently. I always hated when they’d tell me that. But one time, I was just so embarrassed after being called out like that, that I started crying right there in class.

After years of being told to speak up, I didn’t become more confident. I became smaller.

I felt like I never measured up to other people. I saw them being so talkative and I just felt like I’d never get to that point.

Being quiet was something that I thought I’d eventually grow out of, but it never happened.

So, I learned how to navigate life in silence. Sure, it was lonely at times, but it became my comfort zone. For me, speaking was just too much humiliation. At least in my mind.

Today, I’m still someone who thinks before I speak. I’m still someone who can feel that nervousness walking into a room full of unfamiliar people. I’m still someone who sometimes has to fight the instinct to stay quiet.

But this year, something inside of me has started to shift.

I’m so much more willing to use my voice now.

I speak up if I feel like I’m being dismissed. I speak up if someone is trying to step all over me. And I stand my ground on the things that are important to me.

One of the biggest examples of this happened this year in a friendship.

Usually, I would never tell people my feelings or problems. I would keep things inside. I would convince myself it wasn’t worth bringing up or that I was being too sensitive.

But this time, I was fed up with feeling unseen by someone I thought was my best friend.

So, I spoke up.

I told her how I felt. I shared the hurt I had been carrying instead of keeping it hidden like I normally would.

And the outcome wasn’t what I hoped for.

She rejected my feelings, and I ended up losing the friendship.

That hurt.

But what I realized afterward was that I was still willing to work things out. I was still willing to have a conversation and find a way forward. But there wasn’t much to work with when my feelings weren’t met with compassion and understanding.

And as painful as it was, I’m proud of myself.

I’m proud that I stood my ground. I’m proud that I used my voice in a way I never have before.

Because I’ve learned that speaking up doesn’t always mean you get the response you want.

Sometimes using your voice comes with a loss.

But I’m not backing down anymore.

I truly believe this transition is from learning about my neurodivergence and growing each day because of that understanding. That clarity has helped me feel so much more comfortable communicating my feelings, whether or not they’re met with rejection.

I’ve realized that speaking up doesn’t mean changing who I am.

It doesn’t mean becoming the loudest person in the room or forcing myself to be someone I’m not. It means allowing myself to have a voice and trusting that what I have to say matters. And it means recognizing that my needs

And it means recognizing that my needs, my feelings, and my opinions deserve space too.

Have you ever had a moment where you chose to speak up, even though you were afraid of the outcome? 

“Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes.”— Robin Sharma

Listen to the podcast here: