The Voice

Here is a personal post for my 7 readers.

For those who know me, I’ve spoken for years about writing. Perhaps even since primary school I have wanted to write but have not. I’ve loved books so much I would hug them as though they were good friends and take them to bed or to the bath.   For me happiness is a good story that transports me along its journey and makes me feel life is bearable.

My hesitation in writing has not only been laziness. It’s been fear. When I write I don’t like what I say or how it comes out. It’s hard work to chase down an idea and convert it into a paragraph, an essay and mostly a story. If it doesn’t come out perfectly then it’s not worth writing. And so I don’t write.

From senior high school I lost my voice. By this I mean I’ve trembled everytime I get up to speak in front of others. My head is brimming with ideas but I cannot articulate them. I stay quiet but feel abused by extroverts who speak every thought and overlook the quiet ones. For some,  quietness equals lack of personality or intellect.  I feel ignored for my lack of flair, fashion, finances and for many years, lack of romantic other.

So writing now, though small, is an effort to tap into my voice. It’s an effort to squeak out my thoughts. It’s an effort to express something of what is inside. It’s an effort to grow up and move beyond the high school kid scared of speaking in public.

I’m still afraid, as though exposed and naked, as though putting my heart on a plate and to still find that I’m ignored and ignoble.  I’m not Shakespeare so why try, right ? This is where you can help. To help, you can dialogue with me.  You can reply to anything I write with comments, whether it’s that something made sense, or didn’t make sense, whether an idea was interesting or not interesting. That you hear me and bounce back ideas will be immensely helpful.  If commenting isn’t possible you can always send me an email to

Thank you !