I Grew Up and So Did My Voice

They say change is constant, and honestly, I can't argue with that. It is one of those things life just throws at you without permission. One minute you are running around the house narrating your siblings every move like a reality TV host, and the next you are curled up in your bed, phone on DND, pretending you didn't hear someone knock. Growth is sneaky like that. Not that I'm some full-blown adult with bills and back pains yet ahem, but even in the little ways, I can see how much I have changed.

As a child, I was a certified talking machine. You think you've met a chatterbox? please. I was the blueprint. If there was talking to be done, I was there....front, left, center, and right, with my microphone, ready to give the evening news. I knew everything that was happening in the house, from who left their plate unwashed to who scattered the sitting room while playing. I was just talking, I was reporting live

And listen, if you did something wrong and wanted to hide it, you needed to act fast A little amount of money here, maybe a piece of meat too, and I "might" let it slide. Without a proper "press package", man you're going down. I would stand by the door like, "Welcome home, Mummy. Guess what so and so did today"?

I wasn't just a talker, I was the whole radio station. I loved conversations, expressions, the laughter, oh! I lived for the drama too. Talking was like breathing to me; it gave me life.

School became my second stage. In primary school, whenever the teacher needed someone to present in front of the class or school, my hand was already up before the question was finished. I was that kid who loved the stage. Group presentations? yes please. Morning assembly speech? Don't worry. I have already written drafts. While other kids were complaining, I was rehearsing.

By the time I got to secondary school, my passion for talking had matured into a full-blown affair with public speaking. And here's the funny part....... I was a science student. You would think that I would be drawn to lab coats, chemicals, and experiments, right? Wrong. I proudly skipped the science club and marched straight into the debating club like " Mr Moderator, panel of impartial judges, accurate timekeeper, co-debators, audience, good day"

Why? Because I loved it. I love crafting arguments, making people clap or roll their eyes. It felt exciting. I didn't care if I was arguing in "favor of mosquitoes" or defending why goats should be allowed to vote......as long as I got to talk, I was happy.

But somewhere along the line........ things changed.

Growing up, I found myself slowly withdrawing from people. Not out of hate, not out of bitterness, but out of a strange quiet comfort that I began to find in solitude. I started enjoying my own space more and more. Where I used to be the life of conversations, I began to avoid them. I could go days without talking to even my favorite person, and it wouldn't feel odd. In fact, it would feel normal, and even peaceful.

My phone would beep, and I would just stare at it like "Do I even have the energy to reply?" Most times, the answer was no. And it wasn't just personal, I just..... don't have the energy to talk, I don't feel like talking.

If someone had told the 10-year-old me that I would one day prefer quiet, I would have laughed in their face, loudly, of course. But here I am, grown-ish, and loving the sound of silence just as I once loved the spotlight.

Now don't get it twisted..... I haven't completely changed. The talker in me is still very much alive. Catch me in the right mood or bring up a topic I love, and I will talk your ears off. But it's different now. These days, I speak with more intention. I don't just talk to fill the silence. I talk when it matters....when my heart really wants to say something.

And oh, I have become a good listener. I used to wait for people to finish talking just so I could jump in and give my two cents. Now, I actually listen. I sit with their words and understand them. Sometimes, I don't even reply, I just nod and let them know I heard them.

It is easy to think I was lively then, and yes, I was. But I'm also proud of who I'm becoming. The quiet me isn't boring or dull..........she's just more selective. And maybe that's what growing up is. Learning the art of balance, knowing when to speak and when to keep calm, when to be the main character and when to just observe the scene unfold.

So yeah, I have changed from being the loud little girl to a quieter person. I'm not a shadow of who I used to be. I am both a beautiful blend of noise and quiet.

And honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.