sometimes i wish i had a way of just leaning into myself and being certain that what i do or what i want to do is worth it. it worthy. has worth.
when i was pregnant with the bean i was working my internship hours for my counseling degree. my supervisor wanted me to record my voice on audio tape giving myself advice on ways to grow in my practice as a therapist.
“on no,” i assured him, “that would be terrible.”
“yes, i hate my voice.”
“ah, well there we have a little problem.”
he was calm and confident and a story teller. he believed in the power of sharing our stories and he believed in the importance of girls and women finding and sharing and keeping their voice. i knew all that but was thinking of it as symbolic. but as i said, with a smile and a laugh, “i hate my voice.” i could sense the weight of it before he even agreed to the problem. he had a funny way of ignoring my wit and sarcasm and talking to the heart of the matter.
i never did record my voice. someday perhaps. someday perhaps i will encourage myself to do some video blogging. just typing that makes me want to hide in my closet but i’ll leave it. all i said was perhaps.
for now i would just like to trust that it is worth my time to sit down and write. to search around in my head for my silent voice and words and have a place where i send them out. even if they echo in all the emptiness. even if i don’t get it quite right. even if i can never tell how much to share and how much to just keep quiet about. i just want to invite my voice to the table. to say, ah yes, you are worth it. and even, a little bit, i like you.