I always thought that my voice did not count, that my opinion was not necessary and that everyone else knew better than me!
It is incredible what we come to believe about yourself and how much courage it takes to break through all the walls that we build throughout our early life.
Maybe I partly made that decision one day when I took all my courage, cleared my voice and confronted my father for his drinking.
I was sweating, I was shaking, I only wanted to stand up for my mother and our family, but I was silenced and considered silly.
I started to go inwards and write. Writing diaries was my way of escaping to an imaginary, positive world as the one I was living in was not very colourful and fun for a young girl.
Writing had become my saviours, the place where I could freely speak my truth without being judged, without being hurt or hurt others.
I always struggled to speak my truth that I used to lose my voice at least 4/5 times a year.
There were so many unspoken words, unspoken desires inside of me, that losing my voice was their way of rebelling against my silence.
I would not listen for a very long time. Not listening took me through a terrible divorce where Debora was burying all those feelings and words a bit deeper and deeper.