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Taught to Stay Quiet: Reclaiming Your Voice at 35 | Toronto Singing Lessons

  • Mar 19
  • 4 min read

I Turned 35 This Week



And I didn’t know if I would make it here.


That’s not dramatic.


That’s just true.


There were too many moments where it would have been easier to stop.

Too many versions of my life where I stayed quiet, stayed small, stayed acceptable.


And yet, I’m here.


Writing this.


With a voice.


The Grief No One Talks About


A lot of trans people carry grief.


Not just for what we’ve lost.


But for the years we stayed quiet about something we held so deeply.


Years of knowing — on some level — and not saying it.

Years of shaping ourselves around what was allowed.

Years of performing instead of living.

And then when we do speak…


It’s not always met with the care it deserves.


Not always met with celebration.

Not always met with understanding.


So we learn, again, to hold back.




Most of Us Didn’t Lose Our Voice



We were taught to quiet it.


Taught to be manageable.

Taught to be acceptable.

Taught to get it right before being seen.


And if you’re a singer, this doesn’t just live in your thoughts.


It lives in your body.




What That Sounds Like



You go to sing and suddenly:


  • your breath shortens

  • your tone tightens

  • your sound pulls back

  • you second-guess everything



Not because you can’t sing.


But because your body doesn’t feel safe being heard.




Before I Ever Sang, I Was Performing



“I’m fine.”

“I’ve got this.”

“I don’t need anything.”


I built a version of myself that worked.


That people accepted.


That version got me through.


But it also taught my voice to filter itself.



Training Taught Me What Was “Allowed”



That didn’t stop when I started training.


It got refined.


In vocal programs.

In acting studios.

In musical theatre — a space I loved, but one shaped by what sells.


I was trained toward what was viable.


And for me, that meant being pushed into hyper-masculine roles.


Controlled. Certain. Contained.


There wasn’t space for the kind of softness I needed.

Or the femininity I was craving.

Or the emotional openness that actually felt true.


And I don’t blame my teachers.


They were preparing me for the industry.


But the industry is built on systems.


And those systems shape bodies.


They shape voices.


They shape what feels allowed to exist.


So I learned:


What to show.

What to hide.

What was “appropriate.”


And my body held onto that.



When You Split Yourself, Your Voice Splits Too



If parts of you aren’t allowed to exist, they don’t disappear.


They live in the body.


In tension.

In hesitation.

In control.


And singing — real singing — asks for all of you.


Not just technique.


But emotion.

Identity.

Desire.

Truth.


When those parts are separated, the voice reflects it.


But when someone has gone through something — when they’ve faced themselves and come back more whole —


You can feel it.


That’s what moves people.




Transition Didn’t Just Change My Life. It Changed My Voice.



Coming out as trans didn’t make things easier.


In many ways, it made them harder.


I lost forms of safety I didn’t even realize I had.

I faced instability — financially, emotionally, socially.


There have been long periods where I was not okay.


But something else happened too.


I stopped hiding in the same way.


I had to face what I had been holding back.


And that changed my voice.


Not just how it sounds.


But what it carries.



This Work Kept Me Here



If I’m honest about why I’m still here at 35…


It’s this work.


My students.

My clients.

The spaces where people come to be heard.


Watching someone access their voice — not just technically, but as a person — is one of the most powerful things I’ve ever witnessed.


And it’s one of the reasons I kept going.




Asking Changed Everything



Recently, I started doing something I wasn’t taught to do.


I started asking.


For opportunities.

For collaboration.

For space.


Even when I didn’t feel ready.


Even when I didn’t fully know what I wanted.


And things started to shift.


Not perfectly. Not instantly.


But meaningfully.


Because staying quiet wasn’t protecting me anymore.




If You Don’t Know What You Want



That’s okay.


Try things.


Follow curiosity.


Move toward what feels like meaning, even if it’s unclear.


But pay attention to the voice that tells you to stay away from it.


To not try.

To not reach.

To not be seen.


That voice isn’t always yours.


Sometimes it’s conditioning.


Sometimes it’s fear that was taught.




Your Body Wasn’t Built for Silence



We’re taught to prioritize productivity.


Money. Output. Efficiency.


And those things are real.


But they’re real inside systems.


Your body isn’t a system.


Your body is built for:


Expression.

Connection.

Creativity.

Joy.


And on some level, it knows that.


Even if you’ve been taught otherwise.



Singing Lessons Won’t Fix What You’re Hiding



If you’re searching for singing lessons in Toronto, you’ll find a lot about technique.


Breath.

Pitch.

Control.


But here’s the truth:


You can’t out-train a voice that doesn’t feel safe to exist.


Real vocal growth comes from:


Being heard.

Taking risks.

Expressing something real.


And that doesn’t happen alone.


It happens in community.




A Different Kind of Singing Space



If you’re looking for Toronto singing lessons, ask yourself:


Do I feel safe being heard?


Because your voice is shaped by your nervous system, your identity, and your lived experience.


The work isn’t just about sounding better.


It’s about allowing more of you to exist.



If You’re Reading This



Keep going.


Ask for what you want.

Even if you were taught not to.


And if you don’t know what you want yet…


You’re still allowed to move.


You’re still allowed to explore.


You’re still allowed to take up space.




On My 35th Birthday



I’m holding space for myself.


And for anyone who stayed quiet longer than they should have had to.


And for anyone who spoke — and wasn’t met with what they deserved.


And for anyone still finding their way back to their voice.



An Invitation



If you want to explore your voice in a space that holds all of this —


Not just technique, but identity, expression, and community —


I’ve opened the waitlist for:


Drag Out Your Voice


👉 https://forms.gle/yCFnv6m9ZukkFz568



Your voice was never the problem.


Silence was.




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