When I was six years old, I gave ballet a shot.
I use the word “shot” intentionally, because every stomp of my flat foot on the floor ricocheted through the tiny studio like a bullet. I shook the mirrors. I hummed along to the piano at full volume as I pliéd.
It turns out, I can’t be quiet. Just can’t do it. It’s impossible for me in the same way that other people struggle to curl their tongue or enjoy reality television.
I’ve accepted that there are some things I’ll just have to deal with in life as a result of my unfortunate affliction. And if you’re a serial loud person like me, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about
1. You literally cannot whisper.
Shout-whispering is your only option. And your shout-whisper is the same volume as other people’s normal voices.
2. You go out of your way to avoid places where you’re expected to be quiet.
The cinema, the library, that stupid ‘quiet’ carriage on the train, any antique shop, any events involving the elderly or sleeping babies.
3. You’ve been called the name of every loud animal under the sun, and none of them are flattering.
My mum’s nickname for me is “the elephant.” That inspired a lot of confidence in my teenage years.
4. When you’re coming home from a night out, you wake everyone else in the house without fail.
And the cat. And the neighbours. And their cat.