The High Cost of Unexpressed Creativity (My Story of Losing My Voice)

I didn’t lose my creativity all at once. It slipped away the moment I stopped singing my own songs, dancing my own dance, and creating for the sake of my own soul.

There was a time on my path when I handed my creative power to someone else—a man who promised he had “the map and the key.” Believing I was missing something, I followed his path instead of my own. And in that place of seeking, striving, and spiritual confusion, my singing stopped.
My dancing stopped.
My creating—just for me—went silent.

Fast forward 28 years.

I walked into a room where voices spiraled like a cathedral of sound, and something ancient in me cracked open. My voice returned. My heart broke free. Tears flowed. A ukulele, a rattle, and a drum found my hands. My poetry blossomed into melody. My body reawakened through nights of ecstatic dance, journeyed playlists, sweat, surrender, and joy.

I began rewriting myself back into my own knowing—my own map, my own key.
I remembered: I am the answer I had been looking for.

Creativity became my greatest tool for healing, transformation, and personal development. Through voice, movement, expression, rhythm, and imagination, I tapped into the deep, infinite wellspring of human creativity—and added my essence to the Big Beautiful Bucket of Life.

And I want you to remember this too:
Unexpressed creativity is not benign.
It costs us. It dims us. It hurts us.

So if you haven’t sung in your car, in your shower, or to the moon…
If you haven’t danced your body awake…
If you haven’t let words rise from your heart onto the page…
Let this be your moment.
Let this be your call.
Let this be your homecoming.

Take away my possessions. Life will eventually take away everyone I love. But still—
I will sing.
I will dance.
I will create until my last breath… and beyond.

Because I was born to create.
And so were you.

May my story be the spark that brings you home to your own creativity. ✨