letter 3

Say It Anyways!

For as long as I can remember, I have always been told that I am someone who fears no words. Someone who says whatever she thinks and does not shy away from conversations. Words were my thing. I held awkward conversations with confidence, no hesitation, no anxiety. It has always been my words and me, a connection that felt like an unbreakable bond

Little did everybody know that the phrase “fake it until you make it” had slowly become my anthem. I hate difficult conversations just as much as the next person. That is the one area where my words have always failed me.

Growing up, I had to come to terms with the fact that in your twenties, difficult conversations make up half of your dialogue. Whether it is with your boss, with that one friend who was never meant to stay in your life, with your roommate, or with your professors, adjusting to difficult conversations is one of the first big steps you must take when coming to terms with adulthood.

For the longest time, I thought being good with words meant being good with conversations. I thought confidence in speaking meant I would never struggle to say what needed to be said. But difficult conversations are different. They are heavier. They carry emotions, expectations, and sometimes consequences. Suddenly, words that once came easily start to feel too small or too risky.

In your twenties, conversations begin to carry weight. They are no longer just about speaking your mind. They are about setting boundaries, expressing disappointment, admitting when you are wrong, and sometimes walking away from people or situations that no longer fit who you are becoming. That is when you realize that the hardest part of communication is not talking. It is honesty.

I have had moments where I rehearsed conversations in my head a hundred times before saying them out loud. Conversations with friends where I had to explain how something they did hurt me. Conversations with professors where I had to advocate for myself. Conversations with people I once cared deeply about, where silence would have been easier but truth was necessary.

The strange thing about difficult conversations is that they rarely feel good in the moment. Your voice might shake. You might second guess your words. You might even wish you had stayed quiet. But afterwards, there is a kind of clarity that follows honesty. A quiet understanding that speaking up, even imperfectly, is part of growing into yourself.

I am still learning that being “someone who fears no words” does not mean never being afraid to speak. It means choosing to speak anyway.

Maybe that is what adulthood really looks like. Not mastering every conversation, but slowly learning that the difficult ones are often the most important.