Growing up, there was only one insult that truly bothered me. It didn't attack my looks or intelligence, but instead my persona. The worst part is that most people probably would never consider it an insult.

"Why are you so quiet?"

Now looking back, maybe just staring at them back in the face and answering with silence would have been better than making up excuses about my tiredness or "feeling off." The question seems harmless, but to someone who struggles with putting themselves out there, it's a stab in the heart.

Whenever someone asked me why I didn't talk much, or even asked if I was feeling okay because I wasn't bubbly and babbling, I wanted to crawl out of my skin and turn into somebody more charismatic and outgoing. This insecurity sprouted in middle school, when I first realized I was shy. In elementary school, everyone was celebrated, paste-eaters and all. When I entered the halls of sixth grade, that definitely changed.

I noticed that I didn't talk as much as other kids, and concluded that my quiet demeanor somehow made me less than them. So many thoughts, jokes and input to conversations jumbled around in my head, but my naturally mellow attitude soon morphed into overthinking and worry.

"What if they think what I say is stupid?"

"Will they still like me if I don't talk as much?"

Those and many other buzzing thoughts filled my brain to the brim and spilled out through my mouth, without releasing a sound. The knowledge that most people didn't truly know me and probably labeled me as "the shy girl" felt like agony. The funny thing was, with my friends and family, I could be sarcastic, goofy, and completely myself. It was like a glass wall separated me from most of my acquaintances and people in my everyday life.

So I decided to make a change. There's plenty of people in the world who prefer listening over talking and are okay with their quietness. I'm not saying that being extroverted is better than being introverted, but I felt that for my own personal growth and happiness, I needed to work on overcoming my shyness. I began to loosen the grip of my subconscious filter and focused on the opinions of the important people in my life instead of every random person I came across.

The journey wasn't easy, to say the least, but throughout high school, I slowly learned how to use my voice. I realized that confidence sat at the core of my issue. If I wanted others to listen to what I had to say, I first needed to believe I was worthy of their attention. I started standing up for myself, unapologetically shared my viewpoint, and overall matured my definition of self-worth.

It didn't happen overnight, and at times I felt like a failure (presentations in class were a major roadblock), but now I talk when I please and am comfortable with keeping to myself every now and them. I believe that God placed this struggle in my life to help me grow as a person and am thankful for it. Without this process, I would not hold empathy, loving oneself, and acceptance in as high regards as I do today. Finding my voice also meant developing my values and learning to not accept less than those standards.