Finding A Voice
My words are my truth, my story, my strength and my power.
‘You talk too much’
‘She’s off on one again’
‘Put your soap box away’
‘Don’t go on all the time’
I’ve always been told I talk too much. I’ve been subjected to furtive glances; eye rolling and sighs when I voice my opinion in the world. I’ve always spoken with passion about the things that matter to me, and the things that I feel should matter to the world. And yes, the activist in me does on occasions bring out the soap box. I want to bring positive change into the world, to build a loving, supportive, caring community, where people are not afraid to be their true self and to be valued for it.
I’m excited to read about psychology, neuroscience, mental health and many more topics, and to share what I’ve learned.
As a verbal processor, I’ve used speech as a method to process my emotions. If I’m angry, sad or frightened, I want to talk about it. I want to explore every detail until I’ve made sense of it, or I’ve reached a place of acceptance or peace. Only then can I release it.
But these comments, start to cut deep after a while and I’ve noticed over the years how I’ve silenced myself, and I’ve noticed how others have too.
Writing for me, has been the safe space I’ve been able to express myself. It took courage to reach a place where I was able to share my words.
I haven’t written in a while. Caught up in self-criticism that my words are not enough. Scrolling through my past posts, tutting and sighing, contemplating taking them down. Wondering who I’m writing for and why. Many more articles half written and rejected, multiple ideas pouring into my mind and pushed away.
But I noticed that my strongest stories are the ones that are my own. The ones where I have no agenda, I’m just in free flow, expressing a thought, a feeling. Words tumbling over themselves faster than I can type. No filter, no editing, just my voice on the page, raw and unsilenced.
For a while I’ve been trying to get intentional about who I am as a writer. Creating for myself a cage, the bars inscribed with my lack of experience, my lack of training, my insignificance in this world of brilliant creators.
But the one thing I can’t fail at is being myself. My words are my truth, my story, my strength and my power.
And I won’t be silent anymore.
