If you have landed up on this blog post, you will know precisely what I mean when I ask if you write better than you speak.
We have all been in that exact same position. We have spent hours jotting down our thoughts for a class essay, or a work presentation, or even in an effort to engage in a serious conversation with another. It all looks so perfect on paper, our words are flawless and our sentences are constructive. You have probably re-read your words a hundred times over and over again while you have memorized your writing to a tee. You just can’t go wrong! No ways! Yet, the moment your mouth opens up, you begin to shudder and stammer. Your words are jumbled and your voice trembles. You have no idea where to begin, and suddenly, you can barely remember what you had written down so effortlessly only moments before. Your heart races as you feel the blood rushing to your face and all you can manage is an unintelligible stutter. Yes, we have all been there, not just you. We have all seemed stupid at one point in our lives!
I have never been an introvert. I am not an introvert! I socialise and play well with others; I am nice! I have so many friends. I am sociable! I am loud and I engage effortlessly with others…as long as it is humorous; just as long as it is light and casual. The moment the conversation becomes too serious or personal; my notebook is all that I want. We are letter writers, not talkers. We are diary keepers, not speakers. We don’t converse well. I remember feeling like the class idiot when it was oral essay time. I used to dread them and almost always, ended up with a debilitating migraine afterwards. When my name was called, my legs became weak and my heart began to hammer. I would stand staring at the piece of paper in my hands and recognize all that I had written, yet when my mouth opened, I could barely manage a whisper. Suddenly, all the words were untidily cluttered and nothing I had written made much sense to me. It seemed as though the words simply failed to reach my mouth in time. Naturally, the other kids in the class would laugh and tease while my own little world would collapse around me. “If only they could see my little piece of paper, they would know that I am not stupid.”
Then again, when our written essays were marked, mine would always come back with an A+ symbol. At first, my teachers thought that perhaps a parent or a friend had written the essay on my behalf, but later, and after many class-writing essays, they assumed I was merely inhibited. Perhaps, being bashful had a small role to play in my failure to speak properly, but maybe, my words simply flowed better through my fingers.
The thing is; it is what it is. Some writers are awful speakers, and some brilliant speakers cannot write much of anything. You see, some better writers than speakers feel their way through their words; feelings which we normally never expose to the world through our speaking. We are by no means stupid or idiots, we are simply writers and not speakers. We are not compelled to overcome or seek help for this; we don’t have to be both. Let your writing be your voice. That is perfectly okay!