Losing My Voice
For my entire life my strength, my joy, my job, and my calling have been connected to the actual use of my voice.
My literal voice- the one that comes out of my throat.
Whether on a stage or in a classroom, facilitating a meeting, meeting one on one, singing backup, or leading a congregation- it’s been my voice that has carried me.
For the last few years, I’ve traded my actual, physical voice for the one I present on paper.
I’ve only begun to realize how that’s affected me in ways I’m just beginning to understand.
My introverted self has always connected to words- reading them, crafting them, and writing them down. It made sense that after reeling from several personal traumas, leaving the religion of my childhood, weathering a pandemic, and moving to a town where no one would recognize me at the grocery store would inspire a deep desire to hide.
And so, I did.
And it was (in part) what I needed to heal. To duck between lines and pages. To feel as though I could close the book on the day the same way I put a bookmark in to hold my place. But the trade of my physical voice for the one in my head and the one on the page hasn’t always been a fair one. To me, that is.
I miss it and everything that came with it.
And I think I’m ready for it to return.
What’s Nourishing Me This Week?
I made an appointment with a new therapist. Am I thrilled? No. Haha. I will be honest in admitting that therapy has never really worked out for me to date. But it is nourishing to know that I am willing to make the steps necessary to live a full life.
My eldest daughter got my sister hooked on the Percy Jackson series, and to all our shock, I have never read it. It’s a delight to discover something together.
Mulligatawny Soup. I know. I have mixed feelings about it, too. It’s colonizer food. And it’s also delicious and incredibly comforting and I’m making it again for a friend for lunch tomorrow.
Every time I’ve asked myself, “What do they think?” this week, I’ve countered it with, “What do I think?” It has been a simple and life-changing narrative switch- especially in the field I’m in currently. Centering what I think and valuing it above others’ thoughts has been the most effective anxiety tool I’ve found to date.
Breakfast with friends. Phone dates with my sister. A local, independent bookstore. A trip to the farmer’s market. A return to the piano. A snuggle on the couch with my soon to be 7 year old. Life is terrible and good.