For myself, for a long time... maybe I felt inauthentic or something, I felt like my voice wasn't worth hearing, and I think everyone's voice is worth hearing. So if you've got something to say, say it from the rooftops.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
The hardest times for me were not when people challenged what I said, but when I felt my voice was not heard.
I don't know if I have a voice of my own. I don't see me being an important person with something to say. I haven't. I've got nothing to say. My opinion is of no consequence or value.
I have a feeling that about 90% of my life has been shaped by my voice, both as an embarrassment and as an advantage. There was always the terrible incongruity of this deep voice barreling out of this little body. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware that it was ludicrous, that it took on an importance that wasn't really there.
I just feel like giving people a voice to something.
I can remember the frustration of not being able to talk. I knew what I wanted to say, but I could not get the words out, so I would just scream.
I always defined myself in terms of my talkativeness, and being without a voice hits me in a number of ways.
I'm used to hearing myself. My own voice.
I don't enjoy hearing the sound of my voice. The most important things for me are impossible to articulate extemporaneously.
Apart from a period of crisis during my adolescence, when my voice was changing and I could not tame it - it was like a kicking foal that does not listen to reason - I have always been told I have a pleasant and recognizable voice.
I think, for a long time, people just did not know what to do with me. I looked like a Barbie doll, and then I had this voice like I spend my life in a bar, and I said things that were alarming and had ideas that didn't make sense.