The process of determining my voice was similar to tuning an ancient radio, but it required some time for it to become clear and settle in after the frequency adjustment. Some days I murmured, other days I remained silent to maintain the calm, and other days I stifled what I truly wanted to say to avoid being misinterpreted. But something changed between girlhood and womanhood. I grew weary of holding back, as my heart had something to say.
I started to see the fire inside me—one of truth, my truth, not one of rage. It began with little events. Opening one’s mind in class. “No” without apology and asking questions that put people at ease. Correcting someone when they mispronounced my name, not loudly, but firmly, as though to say, “I matter too. ” Though for a long time I allowed others, teachers, adults, culture, dread—to talk over it, my voice had always been there. We are sometimes taught in our society, especially as girls, that being “good” entails being quiet. That if we speak louder, we are complex, dramatic, and rude. But the more I watched the women I admired, the more I saw that none of them were quiet. They just picked when and how to speak—and they did it purposefully. I discovered I didn’t need to shout to be heard. I just had to be truthful. I merely had to stop shrinking; I didn’t need to yell to fill the room. Discovering my voice also entailed unlearning the demand for regular validation. It implied accepting the reality that not everyone would concur with me, and that was acceptable.
I began to record my emotions and express my ideas in spaces where my presence had often seemed like an afterthought. I started supporting others, myself, and the girl I once was, who never quite knew how to declare, “This isn’t right. ” My voice became my anchor—something I might come back to even on days when I felt lost. It clarified as well as gave me strength. I was speaking to stand in my truth, not just to be heard any longer. Being able to state, “This is who I am,” without having to dilute it is empowering. Knowing you don’t have to perform for the world to treat you seriously also brings about a quiet confidence. Finding my voice was about returning to the girl who always had something to say and, at last, permitting her to say it rather than becoming someone new. Still developing, still learning, still becoming is that voice—my voice. But it now communicates with purpose. Moreover, it counts more than ever now.
Post Disclaimer
Utilizing my own personal experiences as well as my background as a Registered Nurse, I share my enthusiasm for travel and health on this blog. Though I love what I do and sometimes talk about tactics for modest health improvement, keep in mind that the material provided might not be exact. The material herein is just for self-improvement. The content shared draws on my own experiences, thoughts, and stories. With this in mind, readers should consult their healthcare providers about any concerns they may experience.
Since each person has a different health path, what helps one person may not help another. Readers should consult their personal healthcare providers for personalized guidance based on their individual needs and circumstances. Rather than replacing the professional, my goal here is to inspire, enlighten, and start conversations that improve and make life more fulfilling relations between you and your medical staff.