Voices

As I was watching ‘American Idol’ last night, nearly every contestant had the same thing in common, someone who believed in them. All but one contestant in the two-hour show mentioned a person or group who told them that they had an amazing voice and encouraged them to sing. Some of the contestants, admittedly, should not have been encouraged to audition, but the encouragement they got came from a place of love.

What a wonderful world it would be if each of us could be that encouraging voice for someone, the voice that supported them. What a wonderful world it would be if each of us believed the positive voices instead of the negative ones each and every time.

When I was six or seven years old, I had the co-lead in the Christmas concert at my church. My Sunday School teacher said I had the voice of an angel and this was her way of fostering it. A few months later, my mother reminded me that I didn’t have to actually sing the hymns out loud in church. I could just move my lips. This was her way of telling me I had a bad singing voice. At least that was how I took it. I actively avoided singing in public for decades after that. I’m not sure who was right about my singing voice, but I did sing in public a few years ago and the video made of the event showed me that my voice was neither great nor awful. It was just OK, and I’m good with that. Several of the ‘American Idol’ contestants came from church choir backgrounds, encouraged by the other choir members. I wonder where I would have been if I had listened to the positive feedback and not the negative when I was so young.

Conflicting voices are especially hard during middle school and high school. Adolescents are a mess; at least I was. Trying to figure myself out was difficult. In all honesty, I’m still working on some of that. When I was an early teen, older sisters and popular girls were constant negative voices while teachers were generally positive voices. The life of a teachers’ pet was not easy.

One person insisted I was too fat, another told me I was nothing but a spindly stick. I was too smart; I was unbearably stupid. I had natural beauty without make-up; I’d be a knock-out if I just learned how to use eyeliner. I talked too loud; I was too quiet. It was a world of conflicts and of comparing myself to others. In those comparisons, I always came up short. I was listening only to the negative voices. Always.

In adulthood, I have good friends and a support network that are a big factor in me accepting that I was not always the negative side of the equation and I am a better person for it. Mostly. There were still a few people, men mostly, who told me I was too much, or not enough. Their issue, not mine, but sometimes I didn’t see that until after I’d pulled myself out of those relationships.

Everyone is going to have a different perception of you. Some of them are going to share that perception with you either openly or by their actions. Some with be complimentary; some not. Listen to the voices that build you up, not those that tear you down, and you’ll be the better for it.