Can You Hear Me Now?

I made a vow to myself today. For the sake of fairness, it’s one that I’ve made many times and have broken in equality. I promised myself that I would be quieter around others, subdued in my interactions and reserved in what I reveal about myself- be it in orality or in writing. I’m too loud. I speak too soon. It’s obnoxious. Inappropriate in content, even more so in tone. This was the answer to my insecurities, the reasons I felt unlovable.

But this got me thinking. About my voice. My natural quick manner of speech, my tendency to omit irrelevant details to get to the punchline sooner. My voice, where never a decibel is left unused.

My voice that has overcome direct, “You’re a pushover”‘s and now remains firm, without a quiver, as I have learned to stand up for myself. The one that has the ability to retaliate quickly and void of hesitation at even a hint of offense.

This voice that produces a laugh that sometimes begins more as the halting screech of a train fighting the tracks it traverses than anything human, leading the people around me to cover their ears, causing me to laugh even harder in return.

My voice that has allowed me to have an impact as both a leader and a consumer of leadership not in volume but in eloquence and rigidity.

This voice that still shakes as it reminisces on relationships that left poorly stitched wounds, eager to cause pain at the slightest recollection.

My voice that sounds so much deeper on a playback than in my mind, where it boasts a more feminine regality.

This bilingual voice that is sometimes intimidated by my reverence for language and the beauty in its delivery by others, but does just fine on its own.

My voice.

I won’t change my voice anytime soon. I couldn’t even if I tried.

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