One of the hardest lessons of my life was learning to undo my upbringing. Speaking up for myself was often labeled as "bragging" or "selfish," therefore it was bad and shouldn't be done. This was a lesson coming from a shameless braggart full of stories that rarely held up under the slightest of scrutiny. He was allowed to drone on an on about his supposed exploits of grandeur while I was forced to have my actions do my speaking for me.
"Actions speak louder than words" may sound romantic enough, but like many sayings in our language, this one falls short of reality. One only needs to imagine trying to convey hunger using actions in lieu of words to see the flaw in this particular anecdote. This approach will only ensure you are continually passed over for opportunities you desire, or are saddled with options you would rather avoid because it relies on the assumption that those around you are highly perceptive. Nobody will advocate for you more than you, because people have their own agendas that rarely take your circumstances into consideration. That's a hard lesson at any age, but even harder when you learn on the fly as an adult the way I did, because it forced me to change deeply ingrained habits.
When I became a father, I promised myself that I would undo the flaws that were passed onto me. I never invalidate how my children feel, and always encourage them to communicate: they need to find their voice. If they want something, they need to ask for it. They may not get what they want, but at least they made their position known. There is an unmistakeable sense of pride when you see these lessons being applied by your children. Your ego swells a bit, and you try not to tear a rotator cuff while patting yourself on the back, until the entire scene unfolds in the most unexpected of ways.
My daughter, being the oldest, tended to get what she wanted out of her brother until he was able to find his voice. It happened when she was five and he was three. My daughter had already found her voice, and she really wanted him to play with her in her room. She made it known that his presence was required because she needed help doing something. The problem was her competition: Star Wars. As she was demanding (not requesting) his presence, he could be heard quite clearly, playing with his Star Wars action figures, making laser sounds (Pew! Pew! Pew!). He stopped playing momentarily to respond:
"You do it yourself! I busy!" He shouted from the depths of his bedroom, shortly followed by a renewed chorus of, "Pew! Pew! Pew!"
Busy indeed. At least he found his voice. I hope it continues to serve him well.