Voice

Once upon a time we were gifted a means of basic expression; our voice. Our original voice was a natural sound that has its own unique set of textures, speeds, and tones. It was heard in the way we cried, babbled, and cooed. 

One day, we were told that we needed to learn a language; a string of sounds that would help us communicate faster and more directly with the handful of others who also understood that code. So we learned to contort our tongue and mouths into different shapes, performing a sort of verbal acrobatics. We spent years studying and practicing. We read literature, we gave speeches on random topics, we wrote dissertations for the sake of proving to others that we were indeed well versed in this code. 

Maybe it came gradually, but we started to realize that our voice was not just a tool to relay information, but that it also had the power to cast spells. With a string of sounds we saw that we could completely change another person’s countenance. We could motivate a person, lift them up, evoke pleasure, and cause them to break down in uncontrollable laughter. On the other hand, we also saw that our words had the ability to hurt others deeply, as if we had taken a physical blade and run it through their gut. We would watch the other cry, shrink in posture, or become red in the face with murderous blood coursing through their veins.

All due to a string of sounds. 

The few of us who understood the power took an interest in harnessing it and taking it to the next level. We searched for classes and instructors who would guide us on how to modify our voice so it would be more alluring, sexy, warm, and approachable. There were also other modules that told us how to create a voice that would command respect in a room, or alternatively one that could calm and heal others. So for thousands of hours we listened to thousands of voices telling us a thousand ways our voices should be. We contorted our pipes to become smaller; mouse-like, high-pitched and delicate so we could squeeze into the costume of a lady. Not too direct, but not too quiet either. We put on mascots suits and trained ourselves to glue our tongue to the bottom of the inside of our mouth and push the sound out with force so the people in the back can hear.

Then one day, our voice disappeared.

We got to a point where each time we opened our mouths, we no longer knew if it was our own voice coming out, or if it was a scripted playback of another’s voice to stand in place of our own that had gone far into hiding. 

So we begin the mission to “find” our authentic voice.

It’s a simple yet challenging task that requires us to go back to the beginning; the early years before the speeches and the spells. Can we remember what used to make us exclaim impulsively, either from delight or fear? What did we used to get excited about, what used to sooth us, what truly feels good? When our whole mind, body, and energetic state are relaxed and feeling safe, what does it want to naturally be? 

The healing process will take time as you reacquaint yourself with your own needs and comforts. Maybe you’ll discover that your natural voice has a soft, low, and slow quality and that it wants to be in smaller spaces where you can hear everything from the rustling of paper to the crackle of a candle wick. Maybe you’ll learn that it’s in those intimate settings where your true gifts flourish.

To your surprise, maybe you’ll learn that for years, your voice has been a caged animal and that when it’s free and given the permission to, it wants to be loud and boisterous. You’ll learn its happy place is in vast spaces, alone with the earth and animals where it's free to unapologetically be itself with no circus act to perform for anyone at all. Alternatively, maybe it longs to use its volume to lead, entertain, and inspire large groups.

When you find your voice again, be kind to it. Nurture your relationship with it and continue to be true to yourself. You may start to find that some others no longer can hear you, or find you to be way too much for their own preferences, and that’s all okay. 

Those who can hold you at your frequency and allow you to be exactly what you need to be— those are the few you can call “home”.