"Woman, all you do is yell."

"Lower your voice."

"Karma, use your inside voice."

"Quieten down."

I present to you, words actually said to me, some on a daily basis. I am a pretty loud person. I'm loud when I get excited, I'm loud when I'm angry, I'm loud when I'm cold or reading or speaking at all, really.

But no, I'm not sorry I'm loud. I'm not sorry I yell and have no inside voice. The thing is, I haven't always been loud. There was a time when I was afraid of my own voice. I used to be brow-beaten into silence - I was shy, I was a people pleaser, I was everything I didn't want to be because my voice caused problems. Talking would attract attention, and thus, ridicule. Talking to someone meant they thought I was interested in them as more than a friend. Talking to someone pushed me away from them in one way or another, and I ended up deciding to be silent than to be alone, until I got tired of being a doormat and decided to speak up.

I quickly learned I was a lot happier when people didn't think they could pick on me or intimidate me anymore. I was happier standing up for myself and my friends than I was taking shit all the time. I was happier talking about the things I loved with my peers rather than picking at my food at lunch and trying not to draw attention. I haven't always been loud, but I think I was always meant to be loud.

I've gained a lot by being loud and talkative. I'm the Editor of my university's Odyssey because I learned to put my "loud" on paper. I'm a Senator on Student Government because I figured out how to use my "loud" to amplify other students' voices. I've made so many friends because I've gotten really hard to ignore. It's a pretty cool thing, being loud.

So no, it's not news to me that I always yell. I know. You're not hurting my feelings like you meant to, because I know. The problem here isn't my "loud," it's that you took it the wrong way. I know I'm a lot to handle, but I'm not sorry. If you can't handle loud, then I can't handle weak, and we can't be friends.