All of my life I have held a love for all of the arts. Whether it be a painting, a choreographed dance, a stage production, a 17th century novel, or even a song, I have always loved to see anything creatively executed. As such I have often dabbled in varying areas of the art world as well. I am currently a fine arts major at my university (my goal is to work in the animation industry) and I have a theater minor. I especially have a love for music, and musical theater. I feel music, if correctly handled, can connect to a listener on an extremely deep and emotional level.

I try to practice singing as often as I can since I feel I am terrible at it. I have recently improved my singing ability, but I am not currently at the level of skill I wish to be. I recall when I was younger I sang nonstop as well, but I slowly learned that not many people enjoyed my voice. Before I quit singing nonstop I would often volunteer for many vocal events at the church I was dragged to every Sunday morning.

At around age 12 I stopped singing. The other kids did not seem to like my voice, and as I was an impressionable prepubescent boy who sought out friendship from at least one individual I did as was instructed and stopped singing... at least in public. I would sing to myself when I thought no one was around. More often than not people were nearby and they informed me later they had heard my voice. While some people gave me compliments or even tips on how to improve, I took every one of their statements as a mocking insult.

At around age 17 I began to no longer really care what people had said about my voice, I would practice nonstop, and if someone asked me to quiet down, I would happily oblige until they were out of earshot. The only individual I could never bring myself to do this with was my mother. My mother has always wished the best for me and supported me no matter what. As was to be expected however, when I found out my mother could hear my voice echoing across the house (even with the living room television on) I was once again devastated. I know my mother did not mean to insult me, in fact she told me to continue practicing but to just quiet down. I could not bring myself to sing, I felt as though my support network was gone entirely.

I have since bought a microphone and can now hear how loudly I am singing, but I still have a sense of guilt enveloping myself. I feel as though I can not sing, that a part of my voice has been stifled (both literally and metaphorically). My sense of expression feels hampered. I have met many friends in college that have helped me better my voice... but I wonder if I should even bother sometimes.