by Lisa

Just read:

“Speak your truth even if your voice shakes.”

My shaking voice used to silence my truth.  I closed my mouth the minute a tremble choked my words, and I didn’t open it again until the risk had passed.  What a silly fool I was.

Asked about the sudden silence, I could only respond, “I sound like an idiot, so I don’t think you will take me seriously.  I sound like a weak little girl.  Go away until I sound less pathetic.”  These words always came out in pieces, between deep breaths.  I could feel hands of humiliation tighten around my throat…shook my head to free myself, free my thoughts.  The problem?  By the time my voice changed from a strangled tremor to cool calm detachment, the passion behind my truth had crawled away to its prison.  Slamclickthudjingle, and the guard was on duty again.

That, really, was the pathetic part.

Some truths can’t be spoken in time unless they are spoken through tears, in snotty vibrato.