The Voices We Were Taught to Silence—And Why We Need to Speak

We learn it early.

The subtle (and not-so-subtle) lessons about when to speak and when to stay quiet. About which emotions are acceptable and which make us "too much." About how to be likable, agreeable, and above all, not difficult.

We learn it in the classroom when we raise our hands enthusiastically, only to be told we're "chatty" while the boy next to us is "engaged."

We learn it at the dinner table when our opinions are dismissed or talked over, teaching us that our thoughts are secondary to the louder voices in the room.

We learn it in the workplace when we advocate for ourselves and are labeled "aggressive," while our male colleagues are "assertive" and "natural leaders."

We learn it in relationships when expressing our needs is met with defensiveness, guilt-tripping, or worse—silence.

And over time, we internalize these lessons so deeply that we begin to silence ourselves.

The Price of Staying Small

What does this self-silencing cost us?

It costs us our power. Our authenticity. Our connection—to ourselves and to others.

It shows up as:

• The apology that's always on our lips, even when we've done nothing wrong

• The idea we don't share in the meeting because we convince ourselves it's not good enough

• The boundary we don't set because we don't want to upset anyone

• The dream we stopped talking about because no one seemed to take it seriously

• The "I'm fine" we say when we're anything but

We've been conditioned to believe that taking up space is selfish. That speaking our truth is divisive. That our worth is measured by how little we ask for and how much we give.

But here's what I know after decades of both silencing myself and finding my voice:

Silence doesn't keep us safe. It keeps us stuck.

The Anatomy of Self-Silencing

Self-silencing isn't just about not speaking. It's about the constant internal negotiation we do before we say anything at all.

It's the voice in our heads that says:

• "Maybe I'm overreacting"

• "I don't want to seem difficult"

• "What if they think I'm too much?"

• "I should just let it go"

• "Who am I to speak up?"

This voice isn't ours. It's the internalized voice of every person, system, and structure that benefited from our compliance.

It's rooted in:

Perfectionism – The belief that we must be flawless to be worthy of being heard

People-pleasing – The fear that expressing our needs will result in rejection or abandonment

Over-functioning – The exhausting conviction that our value comes from how much we do for others, not who we are

These patterns aren't personal failures. They're survival strategies we developed in response to systems that punished us for speaking up. But what once protected us now constrains us.

What Changes When We Stop Silencing Ourselves

I've watched it happen time and time again—in my own life and in the lives of the women I coach.

When we reclaim our voices, everything shifts.

Relationships become more authentic because they're built on honesty, not performance.

Leadership becomes more effective because it's rooted in values, not validation.

Decisions become clearer because we're listening to our intuition, not just external expectations.

And perhaps most importantly, we begin to trust ourselves again.

But let's be honest: Speaking up isn't easy.

When we start using our voices after years of silence, we face:

Internal resistance – That familiar voice telling us to stay quiet, be nice, not make waves

External pushback – People who were comfortable with our silence may not welcome our voice

The fear of conflict – Speaking truth often disrupts the status quo, and that can feel scary

The risk of being misunderstood – Not everyone will appreciate or understand what we're saying

And you know what? That's okay.

Because the cost of continuing to silence ourselves is far greater than the discomfort of speaking up.

Small Acts of Unmuting

Reclaiming your voice doesn't require a dramatic public declaration. It often begins in small, brave moments:

• Saying "no" without offering a lengthy explanation or apology

• Sharing your real opinion in a meeting, even if it differs from the group

• Naming what's not being said in a conversation or relationship

• Asking for what you need instead of hoping someone will notice

• Correcting someone when they mispronounce your name or misrepresent your work

• Letting yourself take up space—physically, verbally, emotionally—without shrinking

Each time you choose authenticity over approval, you're rewiring decades of conditioning. You're teaching yourself that your voice matters. That you don't have to earn the right to be heard.

The Ripple Effect

Here's what's remarkable: when you stop silencing yourself, you give others permission to do the same.

Your daughter watches you set a boundary and learns that her needs matter.

Your son listens and learns that no means no.

Your colleague sees you advocate for yourself and finds the courage to do it too.

Your friend witnesses you speaking your truth and realizes she doesn't have to perform anymore either.

This is how culture changes. Not through grand gestures, but through the accumulation of women choosing to speak when silence would be easier.

We're Not Doing This Alone

One of the most powerful antidotes to self-silencing is community. When we share our stories, we realize we're not alone in our struggles. We see our experiences reflected in others, and that validation can be transformative.

This is why women's circles, authentic friendships, and communities of support matter so much. They remind us that:

• Our experiences are valid

• Our voices deserve to be heard

• We don't have to navigate this alone

• There is strength in solidarity

When women support each other's voices rather than competing for limited seats at the table, we create something powerful: collective liberation.

A Challenge

This week, I invite you to notice:

Where are you silencing yourself?

Is it in a specific relationship? A particular setting? Around certain topics?

And then, just once, choose to speak instead of staying quiet.

It doesn't have to be perfect. Your voice might shake. You might stumble over your words. That's okay.

Because the goal isn't perfection. It's authenticity. It's choosing yourself even when it feels uncomfortable.

The Path Forward

We're living in a moment where women's voices are more essential than ever. Where the rights we thought were secured are being questioned. Where the progress we assumed was permanent is proving fragile.

This is not the time to go quiet.

This is the time to speak with clarity, courage, and conviction.

To use our voices not just for ourselves, but for the women who can't yet speak. For the girls who are watching and learning. For the future we're creating together.

Because here's the truth I've learned:

Your voice is not too much. Your truth is not too loud. Your needs are not too demanding.

You were born with a voice, and it's time to use it.

Not because you have to prove yourself to anyone.

But because the world needs to hear what you have to say.

And because living a muted life is no longer an option.

So speak. Even when your voice shakes. Especially then.

The women who came before us fought for this right. The women coming after us are counting on us to use it.

We are done apologizing for taking up space.

We are done shrinking to make others comfortable.

We are done staying silent when we have something to say.

We are unmuted. And we're not going back.

What's your experience with finding your voice? Where have you struggled to speak up? I'd love to hear from you in the comments.