Last week, I received an e-mail from the Odyssey telling me that my first article had received over two-hundred views. I was dumbstruck. My only background in writing for an audience is a small blog that I kept up for a few years in order to help friends and family far away keep in touch with what's been going on in my life.

I used to celebrate when I got twenty views!

As I moved past my initial shock from the e-mail, a sudden sense of stage-fright came over me. I've never liked performing in front of big crowds. In spite of my background in musical theatre and choir, I still get the jitters before every performance. I've learned that in order to do the things I love, I have to get over my apprehension about what others might think.

I recognize that writing for the Odyssey online is an enormous privilege. I have a platform, and now my goal is to say something worthwhile, to write something worth reading.

It's difficult to "stand out" in a sea of voices. As we are living in the age of information, it has become one of the least valuable commodities (with the exception of college textbooks). The internet has given voices to many individuals who, at a different time, would have remained voiceless. In many ways, it truly is a beautiful thing.

It means that there is a greater variety of perspectives, and ideas can reach practically every corner of the globe. However, it also means that it's more difficult to be heard. Because this endless chatter exists, it's difficult to know which voices to listen to. Sometimes the voices are rightfully angry - and other times, they're just angry.

Through the internet, we have access to the best and worst of humanity.

All these voices have individuals behind them who vary in their volume and desire to be heard. A few months ago, I was pondering on the nature of fame in today's society. Especially in my generation, we have been taught to value fame and recognition and to strive to achieve them.

Just look at YouTube - there are hundreds of thousands of individuals attempting to be content creators, with a few who attain "success". Though there are many individuals who make videos because they truly love the art form, among others I've seen a fairly consistent pattern of "look at me, see how cool I am!"

I don't think the desire for attention is inherently negative, but pursuing fame for its own sake is.

There came a point in my early teens when I wanted to join in with this throng of fame-seeking individuals. Though there were some logistical problems to this endeavor, what truly stopped me from becoming a YouTuber was that I didn't want to start something I wasn't confident I could be successful in - I saw my peers struggling to be heard and I realized that it wasn't a battle I wanted to fight.

At that time, I chose to stay under the radar and have a somewhat silence existence online. This philosophy carried out into the rest of my social media - for many years, I rarely posted original content on any platform I had access to.

Now, here I am - speaking to an audience whose number I cannot guess. To be honest, I'm terrified. However, my measure of success has changed since my early teens - I now measure by whether or not I enjoy what I'm doing and if I like what I create. I believe that the value in having a voice is not simply in who hears what you have to say, but instead lies within the very act of speaking.