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Sharing my Voice

By Kim K Gray

It's always been hard for me to share my voice. From a young age I can remember keeping silent when I actually had something to say.  Usually I was afraid of being wrong, being left out, or upsetting someone. I never wanted to make waves. But the moment I saw a suggestion between Thyroid problems (which I have) and voice, it was like a heavy truth dropped into my lap. And I began to write.  "Began" is not really accurate, though. I've always had a diary and was writing poetry for my eyes only from a young age.  I've always had a very rich inner life and especially with my unwillingness to share it, it needed somewhere to go, which was usually on paper. 

At the time I was training to become a health coach so I could help others with similar health challenges to mine. And as I considered my voice, my own experiences, and helping others, it seemed the right next step would be to share my voice publicly in hopes that it would help someone else. I started a blog, and if you've read it, you will recognize some of the posts here. 

Back to sharing my voice. It's a vulnerable thing. There's still the fear that I might upset someone.  There's still the fear that someone will see what's inside me and not like me anymore. And there's definitely a fear that what I have to say won't matter. But my thyroid says, be silent no more. So I take that scary step forward.

The following is a piece I shared on my previous blog that I wrote to capture the feeling of that scary step forward. May it find whomever needs to see it.

She peeks around the corner. So many people out there waiting for her. Their eyes eager, searching, also sad. Each sitting in their own bubble. Safe, yes, but also closed off. Unable to see the myriad of others around them. They look out. Searching. Yearning. Wanting to find a way. A way to feel whole again. They feel confused. Lost. Alone.

She sighs. She remembers. Remembers being in her bubble. Her fortress. Strong, safe, and alone. And she remembers the day she stepped out. The discovery that she could do so. The discovery of the others surrounding her. She remembers the fear and also the relief.

She knows they need her. She knows her words can seep through their bubbles. She knows she has a part in helping them break free. And she’s afraid. She fears they will walk away untouched. She fears the ones behind her may leave too. She fears being left alone again, fortress walls rebuilt.

She feels the push of hands on her back. They are strong, and loving. Hands of Love and Light urging her on. Yes, this. This is part of my plan for you. You will never be alone.

She turns around. The space behind her empty. And further backstage, her people. Standing firm, smiling, encouraging. And she settles in the truth that she is not alone. Never was alone. All through her emergence they have been there. Loving her through denial, doubt, and pain. They were there when she unraveled. There to help her see the strands to keep. There to support her in letting go of the ones holding her back.

Delicate work. Sifting through strands. Seeing how they each had a part in the tapestry of her life. Noticing the place where one strand ended and another began. Careful work snipping off the loose ends that hang. Clearing them all so the work can be seen. The beautiful tapestry of her life.

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