The Journey

I have always been a person who overshares. I used to believe it was a flaw because I could not stop blurting out random conversations or factoids about myself. What can I say? I'm quirky? Sure, we will go with that. Oversharing became a way for people to connect with me, and understand the “why” that comes from many of my choices. My transparency helped pave the way for a safe space to shed all that doesn't serve me.

I've been singing since I was a child, performing in choirs and musicals from third grade until high school. Then, what seemed like out of nowhere, I couldn't sing anymore. It wasn't that I didn't want to sing, it was as if there was a switch in my throat that would shut off whenever I was in the vicinity of another person.

I believe there were moments that compiled together to create what I call life fright, as it extended far beyond just singing, and I became anxious about all actions and expectations I could not autopilot through. When I was 16 years old, my older sister asked me to sing in her wedding. All she wanted was for me to sing for her, my aunt and her maid of honor. I froze. My throat wouldn't allow the song to come out. Needless to say, I did not sing at her wedding, and it's one of my biggest regrets. I'm hoping I can make it up to her one day. Another assistant to my fright came in the form of an audition for the very first season of American Idol. I waited in line from 3am with my sister's husband at the time, but didn't make it past the first round. Most people assume the judges are the first step, but when I auditioned, we went in groups of six, stepped forward in front of a camera and sang a few lines. I sang India Arie's “Ready For Love” and that was that. For some reason, I allowed it to silence me, as if I was the issue and not that American Idol was not looking for a deep-voiced soul singer at that time. It discouraged me to the point of questioning all of my gifts, including writing. I went to college, but never performed there. I just shut down and shut off.

For 20 years, I could sing along with music, do the occasional night karaoke with family at home, and that is all. I birthed six children and couldn't sing to them if another person was around. I'm not sure where the drastic fright came from, but it ran my life up until September 2020. I would like to say it was earlier, but I consider those false starts. I have been fighting my fears for the last year, more than ever, because I have a gift of healing with my voice and I want to utilize it. I use social media platforms like Facebook and Instagram to highlight my transparency with no concerns for how people may view me. I work hard to do it for me, to stand firm in what I know and not sink based on what I am thinking or defeating myself with.

I have also been stepping into a new level of psychic gifts lately, and that is also pushing me to stand tall and fight through all of my fears. People follow me because I am vulnerable about my journey up to this point and they are eager to see the other side of my anxious self. I have called fear my mean best friend because its always there as if it cares, but is only there to harm me. I have decided to fire my fear and my first step was releasing my first song. My next step is submitting this story and pushing forward to create more music and more works of writing as well as developing a type of singing telegram service where people can send singing messages to others.