Growing up, I was the super quiet kid in the corner, reading a book or writing a story. The only time I made a sound was when I sang. From elementary school through high school, I was in musicals, chorus, and even ended up with a solo my senior year of high school. That solo was the absolute thrill and highlight of my singing life (and, sadly, there's no documentation of it whatsoever).
It was also the second to last time I sang in public for 10 years.
What happened? Well, fear and panic and “I’m not going to be a singer so I can’t major in that” and “I’m probably not even that good of a singer so why bother?” The longer I stayed on my self-imposed singing hiatus, the bigger the fear grew, and the harder it was to get back to it. I missed it SO MUCH. I felt incomplete without it. But I couldn’t get over my fear. Looking back, I’m actually incredibly sad – like, crying-as-I-remember-and-write-this sad.
A couple of years ago, fate and my intuition took over and I quieted my fears long enough to sign up for The Singing Experience. It was wonderful; I had a blast and I remembered that the joy of singing on a stage far outshined the voices in my head telling me I’m not good enough. After that, I signed up for voice lessons with various wonderful teachers and coaches, and I performed three more times.
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