I thought I found my voice. Years ago, my idea of communication was basically, saying anything and everything that was in my head. My mouth was like a sliding board. I didn’t have any issue with communicating, or so I thought. When they said “open communication”, I was sure my picture corresponded to it. Plus, I had the volume raised when I spoke, so you were sure to hear me. I have learned that not everything I am thinking or feeling needs to be revealed, but that I need to speak up when it revolves around my truth.
Recently, I have been teetering on whether I should say something. One involves one of my kids and the other revolves around my occupation. Both are tricky to navigate. I want to be respectful, but I also want to be true to myself. It is a waiting game. Both have been addressed and are simply unresolved. So, I have sent emails to the parties involved this morning with words that are meant to be part of the solution and not adding to the problem. My sole purpose in any interaction is to simply work toward a resolution without making it messier. I can guarantee that years ago, I was able to make a gaping crevice out of a pothole. I didn’t know how to do it differently.
I have a voice. I pause when agitated – most days. I use my voice for good not evil, unless we are in traffic and you aren’t going the speed limit or don’t use a turn signal. The point is, I found my voice. I can articulate without taking others hostage. I use it to find a solution or to simply state my feelings. The volume has been turned down, I am willing to listen, but I won’t compromise merely on the notion that I might ruffle feathers.