Reconnecting with my voice

Last November my doctor prescribed me new asthma medication as I was very allergic to my former meds.

As I adjusted to —and started to thrive on— the new meds, I noticed I had one side effect of it. Given the long list of side effects I had from my old inhaler, I figured this one was acceptable.

This side effect is a croaky voice.

And overall I am OK with it. I apologize for my voice when people have a hard time understanding me, and I stopped singing in public because my voice sounded so hoarse.

Then, yesterday, we were at a concert and the band played a song I love. And I, raspy voice and all, sang along. I didn’t care about my voice croaking. I just sang.

Then I smiled at myself and thought: “I own this!”

I don’t care if my voice is raspy or not. I care that I sing. I care that I speak my truth.

In a way losing my voice made me find my voice on an even deeper level. Every day I cherish my new meds because I no longer feel sick every day. And that is a very precious gift.

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