Your voice isn't lost. It’s just buried under what you think you should sound like.

Interested in learning more about speechwriting and public speaking courses? Find my courses here.  

Since the COVID lockdown, I’ve had the privilege of helping a lot of people, especially mid-career professionals, rediscover something they didn’t even realize they’d misplaced: Their voice.

These are people who are deeply capable, deeply thoughtful, and, in many cases, deeply tired.

Tired of fitting in.Tired of sounding like everyone else.Tired of playing a role that no longer reflects who they really are.

And while some came to me for help with a talk or a keynote or conference presentation, the real work, the honest work, wasn’t just about how to say the right thing. It was about remembering how to say something real. Because somewhere along the way, in the pressure to lead, succeed, adapt, and prove, they didn’t lose their voice.

They buried it. Or their voice buried them.

The Mindset Trap: Thinking “Professional” Means “Polished Beyond Recognition”

Somewhere along the path from conversation to communication, many people pick up the idea that to be taken seriously, they have to sound a certain way.

More authoritative. More academic. Less personal. Less emotional.

So they put on their “presentation voice.”They clear their throat and step into what they think credibility sounds like.But what often gets lost in that shift is themselves.

Because here’s the paradox: The more you try to sound like a speaker, the less you sound like someone worth listening to.

When you speak like you’re performing for approval, your message becomes less about the idea—and more about the image. You go into impression management mode. You shrink the messy parts. You shave off the sharp edges. You tuck away the uncertainty and humor and humility and fire. All the things that actually make a voice resonate.

Identity: You Don’t Have to Play the Role. You Can Be the Real Thing.

There’s a difference between being a speaker and speaking from identity.

The former is often performance. The latter is resonance.

When you speak from identity. When your voice is shaped by your actual lived experience, your values, your questions, your fears and your grit, it just feels different. And not just to the audience. To you.

You stop chasing “clarity” and start embodying it.You stop mimicking cadence and start owning rhythm.You stop asking, “How should I say this?” and start asking, “What do I actually believe here?”

Because the best version of your voice is not the most polished—it’s the most honest.

Performance Reimagined

Now, I’m not saying performance doesn’t matter. It does.Delivery, energy, timing, rhythm, and presence. These are all real and teachable.

But performance isn’t about acting. It’s about alignment. It’s what happens when your delivery finally matches your identity—when you’re not reaching outside of yourself to be credible, you’re reaching deeper inside yourself to be clear.

The audience doesn’t want a role. They want a revelation.

They want the real person who earned the insight.They want the you that’s been shaped by failure and friction.They want the voice that says, “I’ve been there. And here’s what I found.”

So How Do You Find Your Real Voice Again?

You don’t manufacture it. You unearth it.

You clear away the debris like old rules, teacher’s notes, “professionalism” gone rigid, and expectations borrowed from someone else’s playbook.

You stop asking what the audience wants to hear and start listening to what you actually need to say.

You trust that your natural voice, your real voice, isn’t too much or too little.

It’s enough. And it always has been.

Because at the end of the day, your voice isn’t missing. It’s just waiting for permission. Not from me. Not from a mic.

From you.