My Voice
Written By Alethea Jimison
I hate the Sound of my voice
I hate the sound of my voice, but I can’t help but speak. I have to cast my vision into reality so that I can resonate with intention to do as I say, and say what I mean.
Speaking is the catalyst for all my dreams. I drown in silence until I can’t breathe…so I have to speak.
I speak even when it creates controversy.
I speak regardless of what you think of me.
I speak even if you think I’m being mean.
What you don’t always know is that the sharp blades of my words are performing surgery. I cut into the eyelids painfully so that you can see.
If bleeding can free you or me of the toxicity of self-righteous judgement , then I will cut deeply.
I hate the sound of my voice because it booms loudly. It cries in outrage against oppression. My voice is noisy in her dissension.
She’s a pain in my ass because she can’t be caged. She’s gotten me fired from too many jobs because she can’t be contained.
No, wait… I love my voice because she taught me how to be free. No one taught me that freedom is on the other side of over-thinking and heavy insecurity.
I love the sound of my voice
Freedom comes with haunting loneliness as you learn how to confess, that yes, I did say this. Freedom comes with battle scars as you commit to your own integrity. The integrity of authenticity will always create new friends and new enemies.
I was born free until I became conditioned to be a manufactured identity. I smothered my voice because I was told I was unwomanly. Unwomanly for daring to speak. Unlady-like for saying what I meant instead of always smiling sweetly in consent.
I love my voice because she bitch slaps me awake. She can’t even pretend to be fake. She rips through the fabric of my inhibitions with cruel compassion as she reminds me that I am…I am.
I am me. Not you. Not them. I have a voice. I will use it with intention.
I love my voice because I had to learn how to fight to speak. Now, no one will ever suppress me.
