Introvert To Extrovert- A Journey

Peter Guber once said, “Stories aren’t the icing on the cake; they are the cake”. So here I am, typing out the recipe of my cake. In my case, there aren’t many ingredients, just a long process, if you know what I mean.I tried, but the basic plot of my life is really cliché, however not everything about it is that way. It’s been a roller coaster ride up till now, but the only thing is I enjoy roller coasters too much.

So, to begin with I was a very shy girl, so shy that I wouldn’t answer my teacher when she asked my name, oh and this was in 5^th standard. My level of shyness was not even measurable, this worried my parents to an extend that they got me checked for being mute. To their relief and no one’s surprise I wasn’t mute.Just plain old shy. Imagine the plight of my Punjabi parents. Punjabis who don’t even stay quiet while sleeping, and their only daughter didn’t speak much. Fortunate for my mom, things didn’t stay that way for too long. Usually kids start to speak when they are 5 years old, for me it was 5^th standard. Oh, and trust me I didn’t look back from there. How my mom wishes she could have that old me back. Too late for that, mother, too late.

Want to know how that changed? It’s not as interesting but it’s worth the read. One of my teachers believed in hard love. She knew I don’t talk much, yet she signed me up for a debate competition. My worst nightmare came true. I couldn’t talk to my parents let alone speak in front of an auditorium filled with 100 pair of eyes, judging through me. My first and many other instinct was to hate that teacher. It wasn’t until a lot later that this feeling changed. I remember crying my eyes out at home. Cursing the teacher. I believed that she was the devil incarnated. Sorry ma’am, if only I knew how wrong I was. With the help of my mom and my friends I wrote the debate. I used to dread for that day as if It was my death day. Back then it wasn’t any less. Finally, or not so finally that day arrived. I’ve never hated waking up as much as I did that day. The day started with my mom literally dragging me from my bed and me begging her to let me stay home. With a grumpy face I gave in and went to school. And with all the courage a 11-year-old girl could muster, I climbed up the stage. It was a very cliché moment; My legs were shaking, my palms were sweaty, I had black spots in front of my eyes. I suddenly found great interest in my shoes that I was staring at. It wasn’t until I heard my name I looked up. And the moment everything went black. I couldn’t see anyone. I don’t remember what I spoke but I know for a fact that it was all gibberish. I didn’t speak even a word of what I prepared. However, whatever I spoke was decent enough to get me a consolation prize. The worst prize of all time felt the best at that moment.

The moment I got down the stage I never wanted to even look at the auditorium again. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. But something stopped me. I heard a round of applause. I heard claps. Even though it was just for the sake of it but that boosted my confidence. There was something I realised that day. That if I could do it one time without embarrassing myself too much, then I can do it again. And that maybe people aren’t that bad.

Viola! I started speaking since. This might not be my entire story but this incidence plays a major role in my life. I started speaking from there, socialising from there. From a shy girl to an outspoken one it was a good journey.

The next time I got on stage was not much later than that. This time it was for a play and the moment I stepped foot on the stage, it was like I was a different person altogether. Someone more confident, someone more open. And I loved being her, so I continued that. One of the things that didn’t change since is that I’m still an avid book reader and that when I can’t speak out what I feel I pen it down.I guess somewhere between a low-profile kid to a dramatic girl, I made a life changing story.