From Silence to Resonance: Reclaiming My Voice Through Deep Listening and Clarity
At age 10, I walked past a TV screen where a hypnotist was speaking. His name was Anatoly Kashpirovsky, a controversial figure in post-Soviet history during the late 1980s.
I wasn’t listening with my ears—but my emotions heard everything. I laughed. Then cried. Then stood still. In that moment, I felt the embodied trauma of scarcity, economic instability, and a collapsing healthcare system—and that stranger’s voice on TV carried the inexplicable power of hope.
I felt possessed… but by what?
💬 It revealed that I am deeply receptive to voice—not just words, but tone, pitch, silence, and breath. And yet, for decades, I struggled to use my own.
I now understand what happened that day as an emotional and somatic response, a neurological reaction— a window into the influence of voice in power, attraction, performance, and trauma.
Over time, I’ve come to understand that voice is not just a tool— it’s a spiritual instrument, an emotional compass, and a mirror of our lived experience.
I want to share this with other leaders—especially those who know there must be a better way to lead, but just need help identifying the blind spots and inner silences holding them back.
🔊 Your voice matters. Let me explain.
I silenced myself to feel safe.
I avoided public speaking. My voice felt slow. Monotone. Too much. Too emotional. Too unsure.
And yet—I remembered moments of power.
Like standing in a Soviet classroom, reciting the same poem as 29 other children— and somehow moving the room to stillness.
Even then, my voice carried something. I just didn’t know how to hold it.
This past year changed everything.
📝 I wrote 300+ poems—not to be heard, but to hear myself. 🎙 I recorded my voice and played it back. 🎶 I joined a choir. 🎭 I took acting classes. 🔇 I sat in noble silence. 🧘♀️ I learned chanting as prayer and regulation. 🗣 I spoke to my therapist, openly and without shame. 💡 I stopped filling space with small talk—and started showing up for real conversations. ✂️ I exited relationships rooted in conflict, one by one.
And still—I broke down.
🔥 Just last Saturday, on a hot NYC summer day, I stood my ground against a man taking up too much space on the subway. I raised my voice to match his. I didn’t walk away. He adjusted.
I felt triumphant… and also deeply sorrowful.
Because I knew: I could have spoken the same truth with a steady tone. I could have stayed grounded. I could have led the interaction—not just won it.
And afterward, I sat with a question I couldn’t ignore:
I felt possessed… but by what?
By rage? By memory? By the women before me who had stayed quiet to stay safe? By my own exhaustion? By the weight of all the silences I had swallowed?
I don’t fully know. But in that moment, it wasn’t just me speaking. It was something older, something deeper—grief, urgency, survival—rising through my throat.
I’m not there yet. But I’m getting there.
It takes practice. Deep breathing. Reflection. And a willingness to keep listening—even when it's uncomfortable.
Because we all carry inner voices—our own, and those of the people who loved us the best way they knew how.
I live now with what I call:
✨ A voice-backed purpose—built on clarity and care.
A purpose that listens before it speaks. That breathes before it reacts. That creates space instead of just filling it.
In this increasingly hot, loud, and fragile world— we need voices that lead with resonance, not dominance. We need communication that brings us back to dignity, not division.
We need to remember that voice is a bridge:
🫀 Between what is and what can be. 🌫 Between silence and song. 🌱 Between who we were… and who we are becoming.
🙋♀️ If you’re navigating your own journey of voice, healing, leadership, or purpose—I’d love to connect.
What I offer isn’t just a list of open-ended questions or coaching techniques. I go to the bottom of the well—with care and intensity. With a genuine desire to hold space for people to expand, reclaim their resourcefulness, and find compassion in every sound they make.
✨ I coach leaders to guide their communities toward freedom— where success is measured not just in metrics, but in joy, pride, and collective presence.
One joyrider at a time.