My real voice is whatever I REALLY feel without fear. It’s what I say when I speak without fear of anyone or anything.
That is my real voice, when I sing out my heart like the songbird that sings simply because it is— without fear, without hesitancy.
Singing at the top of my lungs.
And maybe even using a bit of colorful language, if it takes that to call a spade a spade or a bad person a bad person.
It’s telling the truth even if it hurts me. Like giving birth hurts me.
This is going to really hurt.
I am going to have to stop being afraid of what comes out of me if I’m going to use my real voice. I need to not care anymore. I need to just get it out of me.
I need to sing as if no one is listening, or if they are that’s their problem (or maybe their blessing).
But whichever it is, whether it is a blessing or a pain-in-the-butt, that is NONE of my business. I don’t have to be in charge of anything except getting this “baby” out of me. I’ve got to get it out.
I am real. I am kind. I am loving. I am honest. I don’t have to be afraid of being a mean or unloving person, of having a mean or unloving voice.
My voice might be untrained, but it is true.