the voice beneath it all

This fall I decided to go out on a limb and take voice lessons. For those of you that know me it is likely a shock to read this. Well, it was a random decision on my part as well. I don't really know what led me to sign up for such a terrifying process, but I did it.
Now allow me to paint a picture for you, the last time Dana has been in a choir was 5th grade. The only other time she sings is when the instruments are loud enough to drown out her voice, or when she's alone. I'm the kind of person who avoids doing things I'm not good at, hence why I never go bowling, or dancing, or sing especially around people who I consider to be good singers.
So I signed up for voice lessons?! The only time slot left was at 9:30 on Thursday mornings, which not only happened to be the busiest day of my week, but also turned out to be about four hours before my voice woke up. And without fail almost every Thursday morning I'd wake up with a nervous sick feeling in my stomach, that more often than not led me to tears.
I'd practice humming along with my voice exercises on tape almost everyday, and even got a friend of my to "tutour" me in the ways of voice lessons, yet I felt as though I made little progress.
Along with that I learned that I've been afraid of my voice since I got cut from choir in 6th grade. I'm still not comfortable singing in front of people, and still don't like to do so. I don't know if voice lessons was really worth the stress it caused me. But I guess I did realize that I don't need to be afraid of my voice.
Why did I inflict this upon myself when I didn't really expect to learn to sing in four months? I don't know what I hoped to accomplish, to be honest. But I learned things that my voice is simply the air that I breathe out of me. It's an expression of my life and of me being alive. Yet I doubt you'll ever hear it because it's still something that terrifies me.