By Sarah McEntee
There was a point, not too long ago, when I realised I’d completely lost my voice.
Not literally — I could still talk (often too much, depending on who you ask). But my real voice — the one that said, “This is what I need,” or “Actually, that doesn’t work for me,” or even just, “No thanks” — had gone suspiciously quiet.
It didn’t disappear in one dramatic moment. It left gradually. Silently. Like socks in a tumble dryer. One little compromise here, one unspoken resentment there. A few years of putting everyone else first — work, family, life — and eventually I wasn’t even sure what my voice sounded like anymore. I was so used to nodding, smiling, and “getting on with it” that I started to believe that was my actual personality.
Spoiler: it wasn’t.
It’s a strange thing to admit when, for most of my working life, my actual voice has been a big part of the job. I was a radio presenter for years, and later I worked with the Ministry of Defence delivering leadership training. I’ve stood on stages, coached senior teams, helped people speak with purpose and clarity — and yet, somehow, I forgot how to do that for myself.
Even people who seem “confident” on the outside can quietly lose the connection to their own voice. Especially when we fall into the trap of being strong for everyone else.
And the reason I’m writing this isn’t because I’ve figured it all out and am now living on a mountain eating kale and doing sound baths — I’m very much still mid-mess, juggling motherhood, rebuilding a business, and occasionally burning salad !
But somewhere in the last year, I began to find my voice again.
And it didn’t come from a big awakening. It came in tiny, defiant moments. Saying no to things that didn’t feel right. Asking for help (badly, awkwardly, but still asking). Moving my body when my brain said “don’t bother.” Creating space for other women to speak — and realising I needed that space too.
I started a project called Comfortably Heard — a workshop (and soon-to-be online course) for women who don’t want to be louder, but do want to feel like themselves again. And what’s beautiful is this: every woman I meet has her own story of when she stopped speaking, performing, dreaming, or daring. And they all have one thing in common: they’re ready to reclaim it.
And while my experience is shaped by womanhood, I don’t believe this is just a women’s story. Plenty of men have quietly lost their voice too — we’re just rarely taught how to talk about it.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
Support doesn’t always look like a big rescue. Sometimes it’s five quiet minutes to write down what you actually want. Sometimes it’s messaging a friend, even if you feel silly. Sometimes it’s saying, “Actually, I’d like the chips too,” and reclaiming the part of you that always lets someone else go first.
So if you’re reading this and you feel a bit disconnected from who you were or who you want to be — I see you. You’re not broken. You haven’t missed your chance. You’re just overdue for a check-in with your own voice.
And when you’re ready, it’s still there — I promise.
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Sarah McEntee is a leadership trainer, confidence coach, and former radio presenter based in Southport. She’s the founder of Pioneering Impact and Comfortably Heard, creating spaces where quiet confidence, resilience, and real voices can thrive.
Read more http://www.southportsjourney.com
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