The dagger-like gazes of the silent audience focused on me under the spotlight. Words felt locked up in my throat. The only thing leaving my mouth were shaky breaths. My eyes flitted through the crowd as I searched for my father and his nod of approval. I glanced back down at the now crumpled paper of my "speech". My sweaty hands gripped each side viciously. I was alone up on the podium and it was too late to back down.

Growing up I was always a very insecure kid. It took me years to find out what it really meant to be confident. I often had issues voicing my opinions or engaging with other people first. So, the day my teacher asked me to do a speech at a big event, I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Despite that, my first instinct was to accept my teacher's offer since I’ve never to say no to people. And now, here I was, 3 months later pacing back-stage and dreading my speech. I couldn’t help but shake, pondering  all the things that could possibly go wrong. Soon after, I was interrupted by my teacher who told me it was time for me to go on stage. I walked out the curtain and stepped onto the podium. I hadn’t put into perspective just how daunting this was going to be until I looked up to an audience of roughly 248 people. It felt as if I was going to pass out just by looking at the audience. However, my conscience kept me upright.

I began to read aloud the first most intimidating and important part of my speech. My dreaded introduction. “Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for joining us all here this evening to commemorate our annual event. My name is Guneev Kaur.” A small pause of silence filled the air. I glanced up, hoping to see approval but was instead greeted with several eyes anticipating my next line.

  I took a deep inhale and continued along with my speech. Everything seemed to be running smoothly.. Just as I was beginning to feel comfortable, the worst possible thing happened. I stuttered. My lip began quivering at my mistake out of sheer embarrassment. Tears began welling up in my eyes. I thought I’d ruined my chances of having a good speech. I looked up at the audience again, expecting to see disappointment in their faces, but was instead surprised to see serious faces full of respect. It was almost like I was able to come to a mutual understanding just through sharing gazes. Today the audience wasn’t here to shame me, a 14-year-old girl for some silly “imperfections” in my speech. They were here to give me their time and respect in response to my efforts.

This realization resulted in a whole new perspective shift for me. I slowly blinked my tears away and straightened my posture. As I proceeded along with my speech, I began to take risks. I incorporated smiles and brief exchanges of eye contact as I spoke. I even began adding my own little lines without referring to my draft. At that moment it felt as if words would flow out of my mouth like water flowed down a stream after a heavy rain. As I further indulged myself in my speech I gained confidence in my abilities to persevere. My tongue no longer felt tied. Instead, it felt freer than it ever has. But now it was time to wrap up my speech.

  “Thank you so much for your respect and consideration throughout my speech. I am pleased to welcome you all to our 24th anniversary ceremony. Have a great evening as you enjoy all our performances.” Silence captivated the air once again. Soon after, I was greeted by the cheers and applause and I stepped off the stage happily, pleased with myself.

From this experience I've learned public speaking isn’t something to be dreaded. It is an opportunity to experience a new environment in which you realize making mistakes doesn’t define you, it makes you admired.