Public speaking has always been a challenge for me. Dancing and singing on stage poses no threat but when it comes to standing all alone with the microphone in front of me, my brain ceases to function. I have a hard time recalling the speech or essay I spent days to write. This was why I avoided participating in any competitions that involved speaking on stage. But the day did come when I had to face my fear.
Even though I despise politics, one day in 10th grade, I decided to run for the post of school president. I had the full support of my teachers, parents and friends. I felt I could bring about a change the students wanted to see. The process of campaigning went on smoothly. I then realised the day I had to give my speech in front of the entire school was creeping closer. Though I had prepared my speech a week in advance, I couldn't help but feel nervous. I practised day and night. My friends had my back; they taught me all the techniques they could think of, from counting backwards to imagining the crowd in their underwear.
The dreaded day finally arrived. However, when I woke up that morning, instead of feeling nauseous and scared, I felt like the king of the world. Well queen, in my case. As I walked up on that stage and turned to face the audience, the hysteria kicked in. Although on the bright side, no one noticed my quivering knees because of my loose, long clothing. I took a deep breath and gave my speech. After I was done, the assembly burst into applause. It was not what I had expected. So after a few stunned minutes of silence, I thanked them and bounded off the stage as crowd surfing didn't seem like much of an option in front of the principal. After such a great response one would expect to win, but no, that didn't happen. My friend won the election. And no, I wasn't heart broken. I had done what I had set out to do. I spoke on stage, with hundreds of eyes on me without fumbling or forgetting a single line. I was proud of myself. My confidence level rocketed and I became more of an extrovert. I had finally shed my "shy skin". I had finally conquered my fear. I carried this confidence with me throughout my high school life. It helped in in so many spheres, from playing basketball to achieving better grades.
Eleanor Roosevelt was right: "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."
Even though I despise politics, one day in 10th grade, I decided to run for the post of school president. I had the full support of my teachers, parents and friends. I felt I could bring about a change the students wanted to see. The process of campaigning went on smoothly. I then realised the day I had to give my speech in front of the entire school was creeping closer. Though I had prepared my speech a week in advance, I couldn't help but feel nervous. I practised day and night. My friends had my back; they taught me all the techniques they could think of, from counting backwards to imagining the crowd in their underwear.
The dreaded day finally arrived. However, when I woke up that morning, instead of feeling nauseous and scared, I felt like the king of the world. Well queen, in my case. As I walked up on that stage and turned to face the audience, the hysteria kicked in. Although on the bright side, no one noticed my quivering knees because of my loose, long clothing. I took a deep breath and gave my speech. After I was done, the assembly burst into applause. It was not what I had expected. So after a few stunned minutes of silence, I thanked them and bounded off the stage as crowd surfing didn't seem like much of an option in front of the principal. After such a great response one would expect to win, but no, that didn't happen. My friend won the election. And no, I wasn't heart broken. I had done what I had set out to do. I spoke on stage, with hundreds of eyes on me without fumbling or forgetting a single line. I was proud of myself. My confidence level rocketed and I became more of an extrovert. I had finally shed my "shy skin". I had finally conquered my fear. I carried this confidence with me throughout my high school life. It helped in in so many spheres, from playing basketball to achieving better grades.
Eleanor Roosevelt was right: "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do."