Speaking Your Mind

“Anybody’s choice…I can hear your voice”

Many years ago, I went to a beautiful spa in Arizona called Miraval, where they focus on reflection, renewal and discovery. Their tagline is “Life in Balance”. One of the activities they offered which came highly recommended to me was called “The Equine Experience” whereby you are paired with a horse and have to prepare the horse for riding based on the cowboy’s instructions.

One of the chores we had to perform was cleaning out the horses’ hooves and in order to do so, we had to use a sharp instrument. I was too afraid I might hurt the horse if I dug in too deeply (I’m a Sagittarius, it might have been a distant relative), so I gingerly wiped away the mud that I saw in his hooves.

Two minutes later the cowboy, whose name was Wyatt Webb, approached me. (Wyatt Webb wrote a book entitled “It’s Not about the Horse”). In Wyatt’s words: "The horse is the same for every person who chooses to be with them. The horse will serve as a mirror to your energy system. It's the person dealing with the horse who tells the whole story.”

Little did I know that wisdom would come in very handy in the years to come.

Wyatt went on to say that if I had ridden that horse, his hooves would have been uneven and I might have gotten injured. He then added: “You’re the type of person who doesn’t put herself first enough for fear of hurting the other person.”

Wow! That really struck a chord with me. Unfortunately, I would soon discover that I was still repeating some of those same old behaviors which were not serving me well. This is when the realization hit me…

A few months ago, a friend and I decided to take a hiking trip together in upstate NY. I was super excited as I love hiking and being out of the city. I found an Airbnb for us which was walking distance from the mountain. About a week or so before our trip, my friend announced that she wasn’t bringing her hiking books (“too heavy to carry”) but it was fine if I did and that she was just bringing her sneakers.

I was taken aback and caught off guard. I was so looking forward to a weekend of hiking. Let’s face it, hiking and walking are two completely different physical activities. This decision obviously threw the proverbial monkey wrench into our plans. But here’s the kicker. I didn’t say anything to her. I was so disappointed that at that moment, I couldn’t find the words to question her decision.

Now it’s months later, and I’m still thinking and ruminating about that weekend. Such a small incident and I still couldn’t express my disappointment to my friend about the change in our weekend itinerary. The irony is when it comes to complete strangers, I have no problem asserting myself. And yet, I didn’t vocalize my disappointment to my good friend. Go figure.

What I’ve come to realize over the years is that friends (and family) reflect back to us like a mirror (much like that horse did for me years earlier) and trigger things we need to work on. My friend spoke up and set up a boundary. She expressed her needs. I did not. In the end, this was an awakening for me and a spotlight on what I still needed to work on.

(As a footnote, my friend and I had a wonderful time that weekend and took a 12-mile walk around a lake so all was not lost!). And she indirectly gave me the gift of awareness.

As you think back over your relationships, has there ever been any instance either personally or professionally when you did not “find your voice” and immediately regretted it? Or perhaps you found your voice by taking a risk with no guarantees. It was time to dig deep and hear what some of the WSDaH Family members had to say (no pun intended) on the topic.

Inspiration, move me brightly

“There’s a reason live music feels so freeing to me. At a concert, nobody cares if you sing off-key, get emotional, or simply lose yourself in the moment. You’re allowed to take up space. You’re allowed to be heard. Somewhere along the way, though, I realized how much harder that felt in everyday life, especially at work.

Recently, I sat in a meeting listening to my team dance around a problem everyone could see but nobody wanted to address. I could feel that familiar tightening in my throat, the internal debate between speaking up or staying quiet to keep the peace. For most of my career, I would’ve stayed silent and convinced myself it wasn’t worth the discomfort. But this time, I finally said what I knew needed to be said. I wasn’t dramatic or polished. I just spoke honestly about what wasn’t working and how it was affecting the team. The room got quiet for a moment, and then something surprising happened: people agreed. What I thought would create conflict actually created relief.

That meeting taught me something important. Finding my voice isn’t about being the loudest person in the room. It’s about being willing to say the true thing when it would be easier not to. I’ve realized that every time I swallow words that matter, they don’t disappear. They stay with me. They become the conversations I replay in my head later, wishing I’d had a little more courage in the moment.

I think that’s why I’ve always connected so deeply to the improvisation of the Grateful Dead. They never waited for perfect conditions to start playing. They trusted the moment and stepped into it. I’m trying to do more of that in my own life…speak a little more honestly, a little more courageously, and stop leaving important words unsaid.” Deanna Neiers, Senior Director, Campaign Partnerships, GLOBAL IMPACT | A part of Global Impact Ventures

You have the right to remain silent

“When I started as a lawyer at a big firm in New York City many years ago, I thought I held all the cards to launch a successful career – top college, top law school, top firm. All I had to do to ‘make it’ (or so I thought) was work hard, do good work and do what the partners told me.

I followed this formula for a few years until there was some slowness in the economy. After several busy years primarily working for one partner, that partner kept telling me to not take on any more work as he had a large number of transactions coming in that would keep me more than occupied. Weeks of sporadic work led to months of relative slowness, at which point my hours, one of the most used metrics in measuring young lawyers’ utility, were unrecoverably low for the year (all things being relative, they were probably about 1700 hours).

Sitting in my year-end review, I tried to explain my hours by telling the reviewer that I was instructed to not take on any more work, and my slowness was just doing what I was asked. The reviewer’s response was an important lesson – speak up for yourself, do not sit on the sidelines waiting for things to come to you.

It took me a few years to really internalize this message, but it has stayed with me in various forms over the decades to advocate not just for my clients, but for myself. While I regret not having been a better spokesman for myself earlier on, I would not have ended up where I am today without that proverbial kick in the pants.

I’ve learned that one might hold the keys to success (however you define that for yourself), but you have to use them and not wait for someone to call on you. Like the doo-dah man said in Truckin’ ‘Gotta play your hand, sometimes the cards ain’t worth a dime, if you don’t lay them down.’” Brian Blitz, Corporate Practice Co-Chair and Partner at Adler & Stachenfeld LLP

Rolling with the punches

“I’ve been boxing for almost a decade now, and one of the things it’s taught me is that finding your rhythm takes time. When I first started training, everything felt awkward. I was overthinking my footwork, my timing, my defense. I second-guessed myself constantly. Then, somewhere along the way, I stopped forcing it, started trusting myself more, and found my flow.

Looking back, leaving my full-time job to go independent felt similar. After more than 15 years with one company, freelancing forced me to find my voice in an entirely different way. Without the structure or safety net I had known for most of my career, I needed to learn how to trust myself differently. And honestly, part of that process was learning that speaking up is a skill. There were moments where I knew something needed to be said or that I was worth more than the fee being offered. You learn quickly that trusting your instincts also means using your voice. Over time, freelancing pushed me to speak up, trust my experience, and advocate for myself.

I’ve come to realize that finding your voice isn’t about being the loudest person in the room. It’s about being confident enough to stand behind your experience and speak up. Finding your voice is about trusting your instincts, your experience, and yourself. Just like you do in the ring.” Cheryl Alper, Live Event Producer // Show Runner, boldmoveproductions

Vulnerability=Strength

“For much of my life, I believed strength meant keeping everything inside. I internalized my fears, shame, confusion, and pain, letting them simmer until they eventually boiled over. Like a pot of water left on the stove too long, my emotions would spill out in ways I did not always understand or control. I was often told I was dramatic, too sensitive, or overreacting. Over time, I began to believe something was wrong with me, that my emotions made me weak, and that the safest thing to do was hide them.

As I got older, alcohol became a way to quiet the noise. It numbed the overthinking, fear, self criticism, and constant pressure to perform. On the outside, I looked happy, social, and full of personality. Inside, I was struggling. I was depressed, anxious, afraid of failure, afraid of success, and afraid of rejection. I had intense feelings but did not know what to do with them. I needed help, but I had convinced myself I should be able to handle everything alone.

That changed when I committed to a life in recovery. Getting sober was not simply about putting down alcohol and drugs; it was about learning how to live honestly. It was about recognizing that vulnerability is not weakness, vulnerability is truth. It is saying, ‘I am struggling.’ It is admitting, ‘I do not know what to do.’ For years, I thought showing pain would make me less acceptable. What I have learned is that honest vulnerability creates connection. It allows others to meet us where we really are, not where we pretend to be.

Finding my voice has been one of the greatest gifts of recovery. My voice today is stronger because it is more honest. I am no longer trying to say only what I think everyone wants to hear. I am learning to speak from truth, compassion, and conviction. I can advocate for myself, ask for help, and tell my story without shame. Allowing myself to be vulnerable helped me stop confusing silence with strength and self-protection with healing. Today, I like the person I am getting to know. I can honestly say I love myself, and that love did not come from pretending I was fine. It came from finally allowing myself to be vulnerable, finding my voice, and becoming the person I was meant to be.” Damien Reilly, Certified Addiction Recovery Coach | Certified Recovery Peer Advocate | Certified Family Recovery Coach, Reilly Recovery

Voice with action

“I was 32 years old, living in New Hope, PA with a pregnant wife and a three-year-old son, when I started to rethink what job security really meant. I had left one job for another at a large New Jersey pharmaceutical company because I thought it was the safer move. A week after I got there, the company was acquired, and that idea of security disappeared pretty quickly. For the next year, I spent a lot of time thinking about what the next move should be.

If I was let go and got a severance package, it would give me a little room to make a choice. I could use that buffer to go find the next job and keep chasing stability, or I could invest in myself and start my own IT services business. I’ve had an entrepreneurial streak for as long as I can remember, going back to mowing lawns and shoveling driveways as a kid, so owning a business had always been in the back of my mind. But at that point, with everything going on personally and professionally, it went from just an idea to a very real option.

It all came into focus in a literal sit-up-in-bed moment. I realized that if I was going to take the leap, this was the time to do it—without a net. That was me finding my voice. Not because I had everything figured out, but because I trusted myself enough to move ahead anyway. The decision was made: let’s do this with me at the wheel of this ship (of fools?). No use in looking behind – let’s go.

Now, 23 years later, I can say it was the right decision. It showed me that finding your voice is not always about speaking up or standing out. It can be trusting yourself enough to make a hard decision when the outcome is far from certain. Starting my business was a risk, but it was also a decision to stop waiting for some perfect sense of security and rely on my own judgment instead. For me, that was finding my voice.” Greg Datz, Founder & President, Lithan Advisory Group

Reflecting on the stories shared here, perhaps you too have experienced some level of regret not speaking up in the moment. Or perhaps you didn’t trust your inner voice enough to take that risk for fear of there not being a safety net to catch you. What held you back and what did you learn from that experience? We’d love to know!

"Silence becomes cowardice when occasion demands speaking out the whole truth and acting accordingly.” — Mahatma Gandhi