Suddenly, I Could.

I perch on my chair

In the first row,

Listening to the opening remarks

At convocation.

The emcee turns,

Locking eyes with me, saying

“We’ll start with you.”

Previously unwarned

That I would speak,

I tell myself,

“Chin up.

Let’s do this.”

I remember

Shoulders back,

Enter confidently.

I stride towards the podium

And look into the audience.

The atmosphere is thick

With bated breath.

A familiar voice pipes up,

Suggesting that I should just

Pass the microphone

Through the audience.

I smile, replying

“Well, I’m already up here.”

The room erupts,

Bursting tension’s seams

With relieved laughter.

I tell everyone

I am here to find self-love,

Ecstatic to begin my journey.

I return to my seat,

Passing the microphone

To my new classmate beside me.

Hours later,

I sit in my dorm room

Contemplating

My impromptu speech.

For most of my life,

I’ve been the quiet, shy kid.

When I spoke,

It would sound like a whisper.

I took a stand

And joined Speech and Debate

To kickstart me

Out of my rut.

I never advanced

Nor won any award.

Yet I realize

I’ve championed my voice.

My coaches, family, and friends

Supported me

Holding my kite, running behind me,

Letting go when the wind caught

Helping me soar.

I reminisce to the times

In front of my peers, where I would

Charge them up with motivation

Flowing freely from my mouth.

I sit there and think

“I did that.”

If my five-year-old self

Could see me now,

That little self would see

That her own superhero was

Herself.