The silence was deafening.
Only the sound of my high-strung heart was audible. Ahead of me was pure darkness and the blinding lights that focused everyones’ attention on me. I mustered up as much fleeting courage as I could, and brought the microphone to my lips. My heart was ramming itself against my tight chest. It wanted out; but I stood my ground. I was not leaving this stage without a fight. I was dead set on defeating my life-long fear, stage fright. I knew the words that were to be sung like the back of my hand. All I had to do was open my mouth and let the music pour out. So I did. I took an immense gulp for air as I dove headfirst into the sea of fear. My body and mind knew what to do. They gained control of my doubts, they let my worries go. After I let the first line out, I was no longer in control. The stronger, braver version of me embodied my heart and soul. It did not feel like the real me belting those notes out or standing on that stage with thousands of my high school classmates gaping at me. I was singing the notes like I had never sung them before. I was stringing powerful emotions and passion into the music like never before. The energy of the crowd that was covered in a blanket of darkness below empowered me. But it was only me and the music. I lost my nervous self somewhere in it. When the song was over, I was swarmed with the sound of roaring applause. I was utterly elated knowing I had just conquered one of my biggest fears.
Losing control of my behavior and emotions does not always have to be a bad thing, sometimes it is best to just shake off the stubborn doubt and trust. I trusted in the fact that it will be okay in the end. In this case, losing control did me well. My buried, braver self took over; the self I did not even know existed.