Finding My Voice After a Lifetime of Silence
Let’s talk about having a voice.
If you grew up in a traumatic household, like I did, chances are your voice wasn’t welcomed. You were told to stay quiet, to disappear, to obey. Maybe you learned that speaking up meant punishment, rejection, or ridicule. Over time, silence became survival.
But silence also takes something precious from us — our sense of self.
For years, I struggled to find my own voice. Not just to speak, but to actually say what I felt, what I believed, what I needed. It’s been a lifelong process — as a woman over fifty who’s been through more than a few storms — but I finally know this truth: I have a voice, and it matters.
And here’s the beautiful part — my voice doesn’t have to be angry to be powerful. It doesn’t have to be loud to be heard. I don’t speak from rage or revenge. I speak from truth, from compassion, from experience. My words are for healing — mine and hopefully yours, too.
Because I want you to know:
You are enough.
You are kind.
You are worthy of every good thing in this life.
And yes, you have a voice — one that deserves to be heard.
Now, the hard part? Some people won’t listen. No matter how gently or loudly you speak, they’ll stay closed off. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way this past year. But the choice then becomes: do you keep shouting at walls, or do you move forward and keep shining anyway?
I chose to move forward.
Because here’s what I know — I’m still here.
After everything, I’m still standing.
When friends gave up, when family faded away, when the world went quiet — I stayed.
If you have one person you can trust, cherish them.
If you have no one but yourself, then trust yourself.
Talk to yourself with love, with patience, with honesty.
Know yourself. Be confident in your truth.
And then use your voice.
Speak up.
Speak out.
Not to fight, but to free yourself — and maybe to help free someone else, too.
As I move forward, I’ll keep using my voice — to tell the truth with kindness, to share compassion without apology, and to remind others that they’re not alone.
Because this isn’t about revenge or rage. It’s about reclaiming peace. It’s about honoring life.
It’s about finally being heard — even if it’s just by your own heart.
