Christine, I hear the love you pour into this, the invitation to sing, to express, to take up space in ways that cannot be ignored. And I sit with the weight of it—the way women's voices have always been controlled, not just through silence but through careful shaping, through expectations of how and when and why we are allowed to speak.
You name the joy of being real, of improvisation, of finding presence in a world that so often seeks to dictate rather than allow. And yet, I think about the voices that never got the chance. The ones interrupted, redirected, softened, or punished until they learned to hold back. Not just on stages but in homes, workplaces, and entire cultures designed to mold expression into something safe, something digestible.
For some, freeing the voice is an act of reclaiming. For others, it is something that was never theirs to begin with. And that is where the real weight lies—not just in whether we speak, but in whether the world is willing to hear.
I hear this in my heart, my gut, dear Jay. So true. This is my story, too: of others shutting down my own voice in all the ways you describe. Of trauma in my body causing me to hold back my truth in unbearably sabotaging ways (going along with predators, etc). Then in midlife, to tentatively learn to open and share my voice. So many times feeling unheard, that the world doesn't want to hear me. Yet, I cannot deny my cis white lady privilege (76% masculine energy has helped me grow into my courage).
I'm here to support others who feel called to step into scary places with our voices, not knowing whether the world cares or will hear us, but doing it anyway.
Sing it sister
Thank you
You have soul
Wow!!!
Gentle strength…
Thank you, dear Prajna. I feel your deep reflection. Means so much. xo
Christine, I hear the love you pour into this, the invitation to sing, to express, to take up space in ways that cannot be ignored. And I sit with the weight of it—the way women's voices have always been controlled, not just through silence but through careful shaping, through expectations of how and when and why we are allowed to speak.
You name the joy of being real, of improvisation, of finding presence in a world that so often seeks to dictate rather than allow. And yet, I think about the voices that never got the chance. The ones interrupted, redirected, softened, or punished until they learned to hold back. Not just on stages but in homes, workplaces, and entire cultures designed to mold expression into something safe, something digestible.
For some, freeing the voice is an act of reclaiming. For others, it is something that was never theirs to begin with. And that is where the real weight lies—not just in whether we speak, but in whether the world is willing to hear.
I hear this in my heart, my gut, dear Jay. So true. This is my story, too: of others shutting down my own voice in all the ways you describe. Of trauma in my body causing me to hold back my truth in unbearably sabotaging ways (going along with predators, etc). Then in midlife, to tentatively learn to open and share my voice. So many times feeling unheard, that the world doesn't want to hear me. Yet, I cannot deny my cis white lady privilege (76% masculine energy has helped me grow into my courage).
I'm here to support others who feel called to step into scary places with our voices, not knowing whether the world cares or will hear us, but doing it anyway.
Wow, Christine you have a beautiful voice. Thank you!
Thank you so much, Sherold! Means such a lot.
Beautiful! Thank you, Christine! :)
Thank you so much, Michelle for listening 🥰 and for your ongoing support - means a lot to me.
My pleasure! I really enjoy your posts.