The volume of my voice is worthy of being shushed in the library, incapable of being lowered when I am trying to whisper, and manages to be heard over everyone in a crowded room.
I used to make the conscious effort to not talk as much as surrounded by people, I would try to silently observe the conversation because once I started talking I would be told to quiet down or let somebody else talk.
At those times that I would quiet my voice, I lost something. I lost the ability to express myself, I lost the ability to contribute, and I lost the ability to stay true to who I was.
At the same time, I gave other people the ability to evaluate what my quietness meant, I gave them the ability to assume my stance on the conversation, and I gave them the ability to believe my voice didn’t need to be heard.
When your voice gets quiet and you sit back, your voice loses its power and its importance. Suddenly, you become a spectator instead of a participant. Behind that decision to quiet down is another decision where your opinions, beliefs, contributions, emotions, and feelings get pushed to the side to prevent being seen as too eager, too vocal, or too interested in the sound of your own voice.
Now without yelling, try not to worry about being shushed in a conversation, someone talking over you, or being the first voice that everyone hears. Use your voice as a tool that allows you to connect, hold your own, and be present in conversations.