You’re a Grown-Ass Woman. Why Are You Still Afraid to Speak Up?

How to stop editing your voice for people who taught you it wasn’t safe to be heard.

In my late 30’s, I graduated from The Second City Chicago sketch comedy writing program. For those who don’t know, The Second City Chicago is a world-class comedy training center that has fueled the success of most Saturday Night Live comedians, including Tina Fey, Bill Murray, and Steve Carell.

Naturally, it was an honor to be accepted into a team of writers whose final assignment was to write and produce a show that was performed on The Second City stage.

When I excitedly exclaimed to my mom over the phone that two of my scenes were selected for the final show, her response was much less enthusiastic.

“Well, that’s greedy.”

“All of the writers get one to two scenes.”

“Oh well, whatever.”

My heart sank in the familiar way it had done for decades when she couldn’t stand when I was happy, proud of myself, or otherwise expressive. I knew it was futile to continue the conversation, so I clenched my jaw, stayed silent, and shoved the feelings of shame down so that I could enjoy our show’s run without feeling explosive unworthiness.

Like Little Angie, who was afraid of her mom’s explosive anger and criticism, my response was to sweep everything under the rug and pretend it was fine.

When I was a little girl, I loved dancing to Debbie Gibson, writing unhinged books (like a girl blowing a bubble with her bubble gum and flying away), and watercolor painting bloody pictures.

But my parents didn’t get my dark sense of humor, and dancing and singing were “too much” and got on their nerves because they didn’t like having kids and resented me, so I learned to be invisible so that I could get breadcrumbs of being treated like they actually liked me.

As an adult, I can understand why my parents were the way they were (I’m not saying that I agree with it or that it’s right), but as children we don’t have the tools or knowledge to interpret our situations.

The way I interpreted my situation was that I developed a belief that I didn’t deserve to be loved.

This belief was exacerbated by the fact that almost any time I opened my mouth, it would attract a negative response: anger, minimizing, or a desire for me to be quiet.

So, I didn’t speak. I was painfully shy as a child. I did not speak unless anyone spoke to me.

I especially hated class performances. I always lip-synced. To my childhood logic, if I couldn’t physically hide, then I could vocally hide. The weird part about this was that my grandparents in the audience always seemed to know.

“We couldn’t hear you singing!”

Could they really pick one voice out of the whole choir?

As an adult, I once dated a guy who said, “You never talk about yourself.”

“I didn’t think you cared.”

And that wasn’t a dig at him. I truly didn’t think that anyone cared about what I had to say.

This dark shadow followed me around until I was 40 years old and started my healing journey in earnest by actually doing the inner work and not spiritual bypassing anymore.

(More about that in: You’ve Had 100 Breakthroughs. So Why Are You Still Living the Same Story?)

I thought I had overcome the whole shame thing, until I boldly quit my 20+ Corporate America Finance career and started my own business.

Wait, I have to be seen?

Oh hell no. That’s way too scary.

But how else was I going to get clients? So, I started showing up on Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok.

At first, my critical inner voice would barrage me:

Who are you to be talking about this?

Nobody gives a shit what you have to say.

Just shut up and give it up.

At first, I listened. And it was obvious that I was holding back my true voice by the way I showed up in my videos.

Then, I started to have flashbacks to all the times my mom had dismissed me and minimized what I had to say. The shame spiral gained momentum as I remembered all the times she criticized my face and the skin on my face for not being perfect.

Then, the internet did what the internet does. I started getting comments about my glasses, wrinkles, and skin damage.

None of the commenters were even listening to what I was saying because they were so focused on how they hated how I looked.

Just like my mom.

One night, I had a bad dream about how I had parked my car in a parking garage and when I returned to my car, a group of thugs was surrounding it. They were getting ready to key it.

Because I was so focused on protecting my car, I didn’t think about anything else before yelling, “Stop!”

This, of course, took the focus off the car and onto me. They were clearly intent on destroying something, so now I was the target.

I woke up with a start, and the memory of my mom squashing my 2-scene happiness immediately came to my mind, and I wallowed in the shame spiral until I fell back asleep.

This is why it’s not safe to speak up and be seen.

But speaking up and being seen are part of any successful business owner’s strategy, so I knew I had to get over this.

Except, I didn’t need to “get over it.” I needed to understand why my voice had learned to hide in the first place.

So, I hired a voice coach.

I originally thought I was going to learn how to sound better on camera. You know, the anatomy of vocal cords, how to breathe from your diaphragm, and stop saying “Um.”

Instead, I started learning just how deeply our stories can show up in our voices.

And holy sh*t, I started hearing my childhood in my adult voice. The hesitation, the holding back, the moments I knew exactly what I wanted to say but softened it anyway, and the instinct to disappear the second being seen started to feel dangerous.

My voice had learned how to protect me.

Think about it.

If you learned that disagreeing got you criticized, you might soften every opinion with, “I could be wrong, but…”

If being loud got you labeled “too much,” you might speak so softly that people constantly ask you to repeat yourself.

If asking for what you wanted was met with anger, disappointment, or rejection, your voice might suddenly get higher, quieter, faster, or shakier the second you have to ask for the raise, state the boundary, or say what you actually want.

Your voice reveals a story. And as I started healing my own relationship with my voice, I started noticing how many other brilliant women were doing their own version of lip-syncing in the choir.

Women with brilliant ideas who preface them with, “This is probably stupid, but…”

Women who know they deserve the raise but hear their voice get smaller the second they ask for it.

Women who can command an entire conference room but can’t tell someone they love, “That hurt me.”

Women who have spent decades editing themselves because a parent, teacher, boyfriend, boss, classmate, or some random a$$hole once taught them that their voice was too loud, too emotional, too opinionated, too weird, too much, or simply not worth listening to.

And I keep thinking:

No. We’re not effing doing this anymore.

We are not letting something someone said to us at eight years old decide how loudly we’re allowed to exist at 38, 48, or 68.

We are not letting the person who rolled their eyes when we got excited become the permanent editor of our joy.

We are not letting the parent who couldn’t handle our feelings determine whether we get to express them for the rest of our lives.

And we sure as hell are not letting people who were uncomfortable with our voices convince us that silence is what makes us tolerable.

I believe that the people who have been silenced the most may have some of the deepest, weirdest, funniest, most creative, intuitive, disruptive, world-changing sh*t to say.

Your voice is waiting for you to decide it’s finally safe to use it.

I’m currently becoming certified in the same methodology I was coached in because this work has completely lit me up, and soon I’ll be helping other women understand the stories hiding inside their own voices and reclaim the parts of themselves they learned to silence.

But you don’t need to wait for me to start with one small step:

Say the thing, even if your heart feels like it just dropped into your stomach.

Share the idea, even if explaining it makes you feel like you’re trying to convince a room full of people the Earth is flat.

Ask for the money, even if part of you wants to immediately follow the number with, “But I’m flexible!”

Tell them it hurt your feelings, even if every cell in your body is screaming, “JUST SAY NO WORRIES AND MOVE ON.”

Laugh too loudly, even if you sound like a hyena.

Let someone misunderstand you, even when every people-pleasing bone in your body wants to send a 12-paragraph clarification text.

Let someone dislike what you have to say, even if Little You still believes being liked is what keeps you safe.

Because your voice doesn’t belong to the person who taught you to silence it.

It’s yours. Use the damn thing.

Glow Tip:

This is something simple you can start implementing in your day-to-day life.

The next time you catch yourself editing what you really want to say, pause.

Maybe you’re about to add “Sorry!” to an email when you have nothing to apologize for.

Maybe you know exactly what you think, but start with “This is probably stupid, but…”

Maybe someone hurt you, and you’re two seconds away from typing “No worries!” when there are, in fact, f*cking worries.

Before you hit send or open your mouth, ask yourself:

“What would I say if I wasn’t responsible for making everyone else comfortable?”

Then practice saying that.

You don’t have to scream it or become confrontational. You don’t even have to say it perfectly.

Simply notice where you usually shrink your voice and practice taking up 5% more space.

Because every time you say what you actually mean and discover that you are an adult and can handle it, you give yourself a little more evidence that it’s safe to be heard.

Every voice reveals a story. And you get to decide which story yours tells now.

If asking for more makes your voice shake, saying your price suddenly turns into a question, receiving money effortlessly without guilt feels impossible, or you’re tired of wondering, “Why the hell do I keep doing this?”…

Let’s find out.

If you can confidently lead a meeting but your voice suddenly turns into a six-year-old asking Mom for permission when it’s time to ask for the raise, there’s probably a story underneath that.

Same goes if you undercharge, feel guilty receiving money, panic after spending it, or keep making money decisions you logically know make zero effing sense.

Because your money stories don’t just live in your bank account. They can shape what you believe you deserve, what you’re willing to ask for, and even what happens to your voice when it’s time to advocate for your worth.

No more buying another “Money Magnet” course or asking your oracle cards why you can manage a $10M budget but break out in a stress sweat saying, “My desired salary is $120k.”

In this complimentary 30-Minute Money Story Audit, we’ll uncover one subconscious money story that may be quietly influencing how you earn, spend, ask, receive, and speak about money.

But we won’t stop at “Holy shit, THAT’S why I do that.”

You’ll leave understanding where the pattern came from, how it’s showing up in your life now, and one practical step you can take to start changing it.

So the next time it’s time to ask for more, say your price, make the investment, or advocate for what you’re worth, the old story doesn’t automatically get to make the decision for you.

Ready to find out what the hell has been running the show?

→ Book Your Complimentary Money Story Audit

PS: Wondering what other bullsh*t rules are still hiding in your voice? I made a whole YouTube video about how our families, schools, jobs, and society teach us who we’re “supposed” to be, which is why we end up saying “I could be wrong, but…” before an opinion we know d@mn well we’re right about.

I’ll show you how to start questioning those rules, create your own, and give you a 7-day challenge to practice saying what you actually mean without shrinking it.

Watch it here:

https://youtu.be/HEFzyr04s18?si=b8Oe7MNZimO1OVbq

With Love & Fire,

Angie

https://www.innerglowbyangie.com/

I help you rewrite the childhood stories that are keeping Adult You quiet, overworked, and underpaid, so you can say what you fu*king mean, know your worth, and make more money.

Because you deserve to feel excited about your own life.

Through my signature GLOW Method, I combine money story rewriting, identity work, practical money strategy, and real-time action to help women stop playing small, use their voice with confidence, and become the kind of woman who naturally attracts more money, opportunities, visibility, and fulfillment.

I’m the author of Running in Slippers, a raw and vulnerable memoir about my journey from self-loathing and a suicide attempt to self-love and thriving. Life kicked me in the a$$, and, in hindsight, I needed it to.

I have moved from Chicago to Hawaii on my own, jumped out of a helicopter and into the ocean Navy SEAL-style, bungee jumped, skydived, and cliff jumped, yet I am still terrified about allowing myself to be seen.