My voice is how I share, stand up, assures I am counted and makes me visible. My voice connects me to the others in my life, cultivating love and connection between us.
My voice also draws my line, establishing boundaries where they are necessary.
I was taught long ago that my voice did not matter. I constructed a place in my mind and I would go there when I felt threatened or hurt or humiliated - they couldn't touch me there. I called the shots and I alone held me safe.
I think of that 5 year old sometimes and how she was forced to self-possess - staring blankly into the TV, pretending his hands weren't there, buffering herself from his body - alive only in her mind.
It's safe to come out now - has been for a while and I choose a different way of being.
In the next couple of weeks, I will have my first counseling session in an effort to learn another way and this time, I choose.
I have come as far as I can with my practice, physical and mental, as far as this goes and now I extend my hand with nervous hope, taking hold of another, and chance that my healing is only just beginning and my life is more than I ever imagined - and I have imagined greatness.