Quiet Soul

Quiet Soul

 I'm not much of a talker, I guess you can consider me a quiet person, sometimes stretches that borderline mute. It's not that I can't talk, honestly I just choose not to. For the longest time I would be very reluctant to read my stories and poems whenever I had an English or Language Arts class. Growing up I had aspergers, which is a social and mental condition that also made me have speech disorders and delays.

I would feel embarrassed as I constantly fumbled up words and switched up sentences, clearly knowing what I was talking about. Whether I did either or, or both errors, I would be ashamed and then my classmates would then make fun of me, making faces and jokes and my teacher would cringe. Angry and hurt, those feelings would cause me to become quiet, burying those thoughts and feelings into my heart, and eventually, into my soul. Whenever there was a "popcorn" situation,  I would quickly say my sentence and popcorn to another classmate, to then bury my head in my desk and sink, hoping that I would disappear. I turned into a ghost, slithering into every classroom and sliding out with my hoodie cooped up onto my head and head down. 

It didn't stop at school either. I would run home and try to tell my parents about my day, just for them to eventually dismiss me or the conversation to subside my enthusiasm of what I learned in school that day. So, my own room became the spot to be in my house, my sanctuary for my anger and sadness that I frequently felt growing up. The tears and the long sleepless nights of my childhood led me to have this ability to not talk, which is where I became the quiet mute kid in class. So many articulate and low-key brilliant thoughts, but never a word. I felt as though I could scream, and no matter how high the pitch, no one could hear me or stop by to help me. The constant drowning out of my voice made me feel like, "what the heck, if no one is going to hear me, then why even speak at all?" The decision to not speak whenever I could came from those times.

Another place where aspergers held me back was emotionally, not being able to say how I really feel things except through dramatized and anger-filled temper tantrums. All I wanted to do was speak, but the words never once came out. I felt like the words were there, like when I was reading, but there was never a time to speak out. All those feelings would slide down into my soul, waiting to burst out at the next episode in class. I was always strong in English, never getting a single good participation award or grade in class, but annually getting A's and B's with little to no effort. Not only was I good enough for the grade, but my teachers always saw something in me that would eventually come out, and that was the ability to relate to and grip the audience emotionally. Whoever he or she was, it was something that I could connect to. I would never say these things in class, always pushing it aside and never bringing my words and thoughts to life, even though it could've altered someone else's life for the better.

But it all changed, when I read my quick write that I wrote in one of my English class. The question was "Whats the purpose/meaning of life?" I quickly rose my long lanky arm as soon as the time was up. I answered this question as truthfully as I wrote it, fully allowing myself to become vulnerable with myself and my fellow peers and educator.

"The meaning of life may vary for many people, from self-ambition and dreams and goals to doing work for others. For me, the oppourtunity to wake up everyday with the possibility of bettering myself and my future is what life means to me. Coming from a negative family history, graduating, going to college and eventually becoming a productive member will not only change me, but others that I love as well. That's what the meaning of life is to me."

I looked up to sniffles and watery eyes, and one by one, my classmates started clapping to me, with big wide grins and pretty dope comments. 

"That's some real stuff."

"Wow!"

"Facts!"

I ended up with the most genuine, yet awkward grin of my life. For once, my voice was acknowledged and heard. For once, the quiet soul spoke, and it made me feel so good. Not only because I was accepted amongst my classmates, which is still a war to this day, but because I finally spoke in a different way, on a piece of paper, that grabbed people's attention and I became a voice that was regarded amongst those who were dismissive of me.

This is why I chose to do this blog. For me to find my voice and develop it to positively affect those around me. To use my talent that God give me to do great things. I never would think that my greatest weakness would eventually become my greatest strength. I now major in Journalism with a hopeful minor in Communications, taking these thoughts and words into life on social media, and share with the world the talent that took almost twenty years to see. I also am doing this to inspire those who currently don't have a voice,who are dying for the world to see what they've been missing this whole time. I also do this for those who are still struggling to find themselves in a world where conformity is king. Hopefully my words and "life-notes" that I write on here help them to find their greater vision of purpose in this life.