I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a talkative person. My eighth-grade teacher actually once called me a selective mute. That was neither the first nor the last time that I was teased by a teacher for being quiet.

So when I was faced with a bout of laryngitis, followed by strep throat, both of which made talking very painful, I did not find the idea of resting my voice daunting.

In fact, I actually looked forward to being free from the stress of being expected to talk, whether in class, at the library, or out around campus. Having a background of quietness, I know and appreciate the value of silence.

I discovered over the next week that I talk much more than I think I do. At first, it was simply difficult not being able to thank a stranger for holding a door open or to order a coffee at the cafe in the library, but soon, it became a bigger obstacle.

I found that the more I tried to stop myself from talking, the more I felt the need to say.

I ended up writing several very long emails to my English professor, filled with thoughts that I had scrambled to write down during class. I pulled out a couple of old journals, put a pen to the pages without knowing exactly why, and felt thoughts come to me much more easily than they had been in recent weeks. And I thought of tons of stories and jokes and questions and wrote them all down, just so that I could remember to tell my friends all of them once I regained my voice.

While I know that this silence helped me to think through and draw out my ideas, as I had many more opportunities to reflect, I also realized that I previously had not been giving myself enough credit. Just two years ago, I could have gone an entire day without talking, without even realizing or trying.

But now, I can't go a few hours without wanting to share some new, exciting, insightful, nostalgic, or just stupidly funny thing with those around me. Though I am certainly no social butterfly, I have grown in recent years, and I hope to continue to do so. I also now know that I should not view my shyness as a reflection of my capacity to contribute to a discussion, whether it is social or academic.

I should recognize that I do have something to say, even if I choose not to vocalize it.