For as long as I can remember, I have had a sensation in my chest that I can only describe as something burning inside of me. This feeling dates back to my younger days and cannot be mistaken for heartburn. Jokes aside, when I shared this with friends and told them how it excited me, they often said it might be a sign of a brewing midlife crisis.
Despite the many laughs surrounding this topic, for me, this sensation represented the purpose and meaning behind getting up in the morning. It embodied passion and was an incredible source of energy, driving me toward my purpose and goals. I do not doubt that there is something spiritual about it, and I also recognise a good dose of idealism mixed in. Regardless, I was intrigued by it. To this day, it is still there, I still think it is something beautiful, almost like a glimpse into my soul.
I will never forget that around the same time, I wanted to deepen my understanding of everything, I was invited to a networking event where we could paint whatever we wished. I couldn’t help but create a piece that still represents that feeling for me. It was also around the same time that the song “Firework” by Katy Perry became famous, so for a long time, I described it as my firework. I still have the painting; in fact, it accompanies this post. Later, I would come to describe it as the source of my voice.
As a woman, I now see how tremendously blessed I was to think and explore my inner fire as opposed to not thinking of doing so at all. It could all have been so different, as I know now, many of us are conditioned from a young age not to see this sensation as anything other than something imaginary. For so many women, the journey to finding a voice can be complicated. We are often taught, consciously or unconsciously, to make ourselves smaller, to be agreeable, to avoid being “too much.” When we speak with confidence or assertiveness, we are sometimes labelled as difficult. And yet, when we stay silent, we can disappear—even from ourselves.
We speak often about identity—who we are, how we define ourselves, and how life shapes us. But what does it mean to have a voice?
It’s more than the ability to speak. It’s more than being heard. Having a voice means expressing your identity. In the context of identity, your voice becomes your outward expression of your inward truth. And when it aligns with your intent, it becomes one of the most powerful forces for connection and trust.
To me, embracing your voice means choosing to bring all of who you are to the table—softness and strength, clarity and curiosity. It’s trusting that your lived experience, your insight, your way of seeing the world matters.
I remember moments in my life when others saw me clearly and called out my sweetness, light or joy. These small acknowledgements gave me the courage to explore what my voice could sound like if I stopped editing myself to fit into spaces that didn’t feel like home.
And now? I speak with a voice that is mine. Not because it’s loud. Not because it’s perfect. But because it’s aligned with who I am. It’s a voice rooted in intention, in identity, and in the desire to leave people and places better than I found them.
Finding your voice is not a destination—it’s a practice. A series of small choices to show up. To speak up. To stand in your truth, even when it’s inconvenient. Especially then.
And when you do, something beautiful happens: people begin to trust you. Not because you always have the correct answers, but because your words and actions flow from a place of authenticity. A place of clarity. A place for you.
