I Hate My Voice
I’ve decided that I need to blog more this year. And when I say blog, I mean not just book promos for fellow authors. I’m a writer, I have fans (which actually sounds really strange). My fans, and real human beings want to know more about me, so this year, I’ll ramble on about what I like, my thoughts, my reactions. I welcome you all to comment and join in. Come and say hi, I won’t bite.
But this evening, I’ve decided to talk about something I don’t like. It’s something I feel holds me back – it stops me from doing things, creates anxious frustration when I’m offered the chance to take part in things. Most of us, and I’m sorry to be sexist, but statistics do show that it is mostly women – there are things that we simply don’t like about ourselves. You know what I mean, don’t you – the does-my-bum-look-big-in-this sort of self-concious nag that is never too far away from your mind. Big ears, crooked teeth, nervous twitch – the list is plentiful.
I hate my voice. And by voice, I mean my actual voice, not my writing voice. Some people, people I’ve trusted to tell, think I’m being silly, but I honestly, truly feel so negatively about it. In public speaking events, book talks, talking to readers, I suddenly become aware of my my pitch, my tone. How do I sound to other people? Are they taking me seriously, or are they trying their damn hardest to not laugh. I’m naturally an introvert anyway – aren’t most bookers? But when I start to over think things, I actively become quieter. I try to answer in the easiest and quickest ways. When it gets so bad, I often become aware that I just nod or shake my head.
Now I know a lot of people don’t like their voice when they’ve heard themselves back on telephone answering machine – that sort of thing.
Where did this come from I hear you ask? Well, if I dig deep and go back, I guess it stems back from my early teenage years. I’m not going to go into murky depths of puberty changes, but everyone knows, when a boy progresses into a man, their voice breaks. Only, there isn’t a one off event where the voice does ‘break’ – it’s more a lengthy period of about a year where the voice will squeak, go high-pitched, even cut off entirely!
I remember an event where, after seeing a bad school photo, I went into my form room and told my friend that the photo was rubbish. Only, when I said it, my voice went extremely loud and squeaky. If I had a had a sip or two of helium balloon beforehand it may have been funny, but I didn’t. The entire class heard me and laughed. Can’t kids be cruel sometime? Rather than shaking it off, laughing at myself for how silly it was, I took it to heart. It tore at my insides.
We all have an idea of how we sound when the noise echoes in our head, but it is in fact very, very different. I’m no longer a teenager. I successfully meandered my way through puberty and survived the hormone attacks that period brings. My voice no longer ‘breaks’.
So why do I still get nervous about it all? Why do I give a damn what people may think of my voice? I can’t change it, can I? Confidence breeds success and all that. Maybe if I stopped setting myself back on what I think people may think and got on with things, I may discard this silly trait altogether.
We’ll see. I’m contemplating doing an occasional vlog (video blog) post. My nice new shiny laptop has a webcam feature! Ooohhhh – sexy, right? I haven’t made my mind up yet. Who knows? Maybe I will throw caution to the wind and go for it!