When does your voice feel most like you?

Authenticity is a word that is tossed around a lot. There’s this general sense that we all want it, we all value it and that it is somehow the key to moving through life in a more meaningful and free way. And yet, it can feel so elusive - like a beautiful irredescent bubble floating through the sky that collapses into a pile of goo as soon as you try to grab a hold of it.

My voice pointed me towards an imbalance in my authenticity and it kind of blew my mind. I started to notice I felt drained by how I was showing up in the world. I felt like I was giving something I didn’t have to give and it wasn’t me. It felt like a costume I had to put on and 9 times out of 10, I didn’t have the energy to put on the many, many layers of this particular outfit ( think going through the pains of dawning a hazmat suit everyday- that’s what it could feel like).

My voice started to revealing patterns to me. I became aware that when I was feeling this exhaustion, my speaking voice was often at a sustained higher pitch then felt comfortable.

I became aware that when my batteries felt they were draining at lightening speed, there was also an urgency in how I paced my speaking, a feeling of elevation in my larynx and a gripping at my abdomen- like I was trying to hold on for dear life.

What I realized was that I was experiencing the strain of feeling that I had to show up “perfectly” in every interaction. That I had to know the answers, say the right things all the time, operate from the highest levels of care without stumbling, manage every challenging situation with grace. Sounds exhausting right? It was.

Brené Brown speaks to this exhaustion beautifully: “ We feel exhausted because without even giving it too much thought, most of us know that choosing authenticity in a culture that dictates everything from how much we’re supposed to weigh to what our houses are supposed to look like is a huge undertaking…a culture that wants you to “fit in” and “people please” (The Gifts of Imperfection). How amazing that my VOICE of all things was the embodied experience that pointed me to the fact that I was holding myself accountable to superhuman standards that I could not sustain; that I was trading the more complete, authentic version of myself for what I thought the world needed me to be.

As I softened my expectations of myself, allowing more room for messiness, humanity, confusion, not knowing all the answers, even (gasp) disappointing people— minus all the shame—my voice changed too. As I reconnected to the more multifaceted Christina-ness that existed and as I started to honour my needs more, my voice responded in kind by showing me what it needed.

When I gave myself the grace to be a human being who sometimes could show up to situations at 90% capacity and other times maybe 20%, my voice felt like it found its grounding. The pitch settled into a place that felt resonant, free and solid. It felt soothing to speak and sing.

When I reconnected to what I needed in order to feel energized, peaceful and connected to myself, my speaking voice felt fluid.

I found myself being more comfortable with silence, with letting myself take time to formulate my thoughts.

I felt a stability where my voice lived and a flexibility in where it could go.

I felt a return to understanding what my voice needed to feel fully alive and expressed when singing, while also feeling sustainable and easeful.

I felt my voice generating a sense of ease in my own body - a sound source connecting me to myself, my body, my breath and what was true for me in any given moment.

As I settled into my own version of authenticity, which included much more vast permission for humanity and the various parts of myself, my voice generated a feeling of YES throughout my whole body. A deep sense of alignment and ease.

And this is such a gift because I have one more way of remembering when I’m disconnected from my authenticity. I have a compassionate guide in my voice, pointing towards giving myself permission to be fully flawed, fully human and fully myself.

Quick caveat here, does this mean I never feel a quaver in my voice or a tension in my throat when I’m being authentically myself? Oh heck no! I definitely feel those things, sometimes when I am speaking the most authentic truths. And that shakiness feels authentic too. It feels like a function of what is real for me and a symptom of having the courage to live into that realness.

What feels true and authentic doesn’t necessarily always feel easy.

So my invitation to you is to consider how your voice feels in moments when you feel most in touch with your true self, with connecting to what matters, with being who you want to be in this world.

What is your voice telling you? How does it tell you that you are at home within yourself?

How does it tell you that you are getting in touch with what it means to be authentically you?