It’s amazing how the universe works.
I went for my first coaching session recently and the one aspect I really wanted to focus on was finding my voice. Over the years I’ve started speaking softer and softer and only when 150 percent comfortable do I use my voice at a normal level. If under 150 percent confidence, my sentences trail off as if enacting my wanting to get the hell out of whatever conversation I’m in when I physically cannot do so. I’m constantly being told, “I can’t hear you, speak up”. So in my coaching session that’s exactly what I wanted to do.
Immediately thereafter instance after instance would show its face as if daring me to speak up. What kind of instances was the Universe testing me with? The worst kind. It involved pointing out other people’s errors!
I was buying some items from the store and noticed the amount charged was different to the amount on the item. It wasn’t much difference and if this happened a week before I may have walked away, pretending not to notice. Not this time. I spoke up. And guess what? I didn’t die.
Again it happened. A few days later, buying tickets for a show and the price charged was different to what was stated on the website. I spoke up again. And… I still didn’t die. Nor did the lady at the till seem annoyed that I was taking up more time than the norm, and the customers behind me…well I wasn’t paying attention to them.
This speaking up business is a conscious effort. I’ve even phoned a few friends that I otherwise would message my conversations through (much to their horror phonecalls have been discovered again) and they nor I died.
Why do I keep bringing up that no one died? Because that’s what it would feel like everytime I thought of speaking up. My heart would start racing and my palms would sweat and I’d stay in my head and the words would fumble out as if I’d just tripped up some stairs while trying to run up instead.
I’ve even started stopping people from interrupting me. A few weeks ago, I may have shut down, gone silent and let my sentence hang in the air and evaporate as quietly as my voice disappeared. My head would be yelling, “Just let me finish my freaking sentence damnit!”
– I should point out that I am also an offender of interrupting people and me stopping others has made me conscious of my own interrupting sessions.
As I continue finding my voice and finding the balance between too aggressive or loud to too soft or quiet I consciously accept each time that I feel better afterwards. No one else knows what’s going on inside my head so no one else could ever speak for me, nor should they. It’s my thoughts and therefore my voice that should be heard. It’s like no longer squashing my opinions because I’m too worried about others. My opinion, My thoughts, My voice.