Owning your voice isn’t about the ability to make sound.
It happened so quickly. I could talk one day. Then I couldn’t. Radiation treatments to kill the tumor on my vocal cord had taken my voice. My ability to make sound was injured so severely that someone had to talk for me when friends (or insurance companies) called on the phone.
In private, I tried making noises or simply saying “hello.” All that came was weaker than a whisper. I felt caught in a horrible dream. If I screamed for help, no one would hear me. No one would know.
It was frightening.
Without a voice, sharing thoughts was grueling. So I stopped sharing them. Unable to share, I lost my desire to learn. My curiosity dissolved. Without a voice to share my thoughts, I lost my mind’s voice — the words in my head that helped me form them. So I stopped having thoughts. I got to know what it’s like think nothing at all.
By the time I started to get my voice back, I had lost the art of conversation. My world had become so small I had nothing to talk about. I had to find the purpose for my voice again. I started reading and listening to what others were saying. I started trying on points of view to find where my mind stood on topics people were talking about.
And as my own thoughts returned, I realized that this time I had learned the hard way what I had stumbled across my first time around. Owning your voice isn’t about owning the ability to make sound. It’s about owning your own thoughts.
Be Irresistible,
Liz
Put Your Mind to It
Ask yourself what you believe about who you are and where you’re going. Think about it daily, so that the next time someone asks you can answer with your clear, strong voice. Next time you’re asked what you think, be sure the voice you answer with is your own.
More from Liz . . .
about Owning Your Voice:
How Often Do You Listen to Yourself?
