Speaking Your Truth Starts With What You're Willing to Hear

Previously, I've talked about speaking our truth through communicating boundaries. Today we're continuing that conversation with the throat chakra, and the specific kind of truth-telling it governs.

The throat chakra works on the principle of resonance. When something feels true for us, we say we "resonate" with it. Resonance is something you feel in your body. It's the truth you recognize in your bones, the knowing in your gut, the "hell yes" moment that has you nodding along with wide eyes before your brain's even caught up.

When you speak your truth, you send that resonance out into the world like ripples across a still pond. And the more courage we have to speak ours, the more permission we give other people to find theirs.

The Shadow of the Throat Chakra: Secrets, Lies, and Illusions

(Which, admittedly, sounds like a great title for a murder mystery novel.)

We tend to treat "shadow work" like it's shameful, like having a shadow at all means something's wrong with us. It isn't and it doesn't. Our shadows are usually just the wounded places inside us, quietly asking to be acknowledged and brought into the light. You can't outrun a shadow. Ignore it long enough and it stretches out of proportion. The better move is to meet it with curiosity and compassion, so you can actually understand it and work with it.

So: lies, secrets, and illusions.

There are the lies we tell ourselves. "Once X, Y, and Z fall into place, I'll finally sit down and write the book."

There are the lies we tell others. "I'm pretty sure I never said that. Are you sure you heard it right?"

There are the secrets we carry to protect ourselves from fear, shame, or guilt. "No one ever has to know I cheated. It would only hurt my partner."

And there are the illusions our families and communities build together. No one talks about Uncle Joe's drinking problem, and as long as everyone silently agrees not to, it isn't a problem. A friend of mine calls this "ostrich syndrome," where we'd rather bury our heads in the sand than face what's right in front of us.

Then there are the secrets, lies, and illusions a whole society sells us. Like the idea that Canada is a tolerant, multicultural country that welcomes everyone.

We buy into these lies, big and small. They shape our reality, and sometimes our identity. So when the truth breaks through, like the discovery of hundreds of unmarked graves of Indigenous children who died in Canada's residential school system, we react with shock and horror partly because we believed the story we were told. Facing that truth means reconsidering who we are as a nation, how we celebrate holidays like Canada Day, and admitting that we're not as tolerant as we've claimed. That's a mirror most of us would rather not look into.

That kind of truth can feel too enormous to take on, so it's easy to freeze, or give up before starting. But like everything else, it starts with us. It starts with acknowledging the truth of the past, educating ourselves on what's still happening in the present, and using our voice with the people who represent us.

Change ripples out from our core. When we speak our truth, the resonance it creates gives others room to speak theirs. We become a chorus of truth tellers, shining light into the darkest corners of our lives, our families, and our communities.

It isn't easy. It's genuinely challenging, and at times heartbreaking work. But real freedom lives on the other side of it, not just for us, but for everyone. We can't heal what we refuse to acknowledge, and we can't move forward while we're still telling lies.

I also want to pause here and say that if you're reading this and something in your chest just quietly tightened, I see you.

So many of the women I work with spent decades being trained to take up less space: softer opinions, swallowed needs, a laugh that covers for a boundary they never felt safe naming out loud. Maybe it was a marriage. Maybe it was a family system that only worked if you stayed agreeable. Maybe it was just the general cultural math that says a quiet woman is a good woman. If some part of you went quiet a long time ago and never fully came back, this is your invitation to find that voice again. It's not too late to remember what you actually sound like.

Healing and Balancing the Throat Chakra

Your ears are part of your throat chakra too. Communication is as much about listening as it is about speaking.

Try this. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. What do you actually hear? Just notice the sounds in your home and neighbourhood, and how each one lands in your body. Stressed or relaxed. Anxious or peaceful. Energized or depleted.

Background noise has more power over your nervous system than most of us give it credit for. I once lived right beside a construction zone for two years. Once the pandemic hit, there was no escape, nowhere else to go, no reprieve. I tried to just cope with it. My nervous system was not on board with that plan. A friend finally offered me a trip to his cabin in the woods for the weekend, and I packed a bag before he'd finished the sentence.

It took my body a full 24 hours to calm the f*ck down. I'd adapted to the noise so completely I couldn't even feel how much stress it was causing me until it stopped. Nature reset something in me that made it obvious: I needed a drastic change. I ended up leaving a home I loved and moving out of the city entirely, just to feel safe and nourished again.

Now it's your turn. Once you've noticed the sounds around you and how they make you feel, ask yourself what you actually need.

More silence? Try building sound barriers with heavy curtains, cushions, and carpets.

A little nature? A small indoor fountain, wind chimes, or a nature soundtrack can sweeten a space fast.

Nourishing sound? White noise, good music (bonus points if you warm up that throat chakra and sing along), or, if science is more your language: studies show background coffee shop noise actually improves concentration after about 20 minutes. If your favourite café isn't an option, there are hours of ambient coffee shop sound on YouTube, milk steamers and all. Or open a meditation app and search for 741 Hz, the frequency associated with the throat chakra.

Listening Fully

Now try tuning into a piece of music the same way. Music is a powerful instrument for healing (sorry, I couldn't resist). I marvel at the way Jon Batiste talks about hearing a song the way he does (seriously, you have to check this out), elements of the rhythm section, the room tone, the emotions that a particular note evokes, the space between two notes, each one registering on its own even as they move together. That's the kind of listening we're practicing here, just pointed at your own life instead of a track.

But let's start with an actual music track. Put on some headphones, start your fave song, and listen closely. Notice what you couldn't hear before. Which instruments stand out? What subtle details show up? What happens in your body as you listen? What emotions rise and fall? Does something in the words, the rhythm, or the melody resonate more than the rest? Try it with a song you've never heard before too, and just enjoy being fully present with it for the first time.

And if your body wants to move, let it. Dancing is its own form of expression. Nobody's grading your form. It's not the Macarena, you don't need to know the steps, you just need to feel it.

Listening fully is the cornerstone of coaching. We listen to what's said and what's carefully left out. The words someone chooses. The pauses and hesitations. Where their eyes go. The emotion under their voice. Their posture, their face, the whole instrument of them. It's a lot like music, or a dance: all the small pieces coming together to make a whole, and pointing the way toward healing.

Writing

Writing helps even if not a single other person ever reads it, because it gives you room to say the whole thing without rushing or holding back. Find a stretch of time where you won't be interrupted, and write what actually needs to be said. Writing opens a channel that invites your deepest self-expression.

Getting compassionately curious about your shadow: journal prompts

Were there family illusions you were expected to uphold, like pretending everything was fine when it wasn't?
Were you ever told to keep a secret ("don't tell Mommy")? How did that shape you? Did it affect your ability to speak the truth in other parts of your life?
Has someone ever kept a secret from you? How did it feel to find out? How did that betrayal ripple into your other relationships?
Did you ever lie to avoid punishment or humiliation, or to protect someone else? How did that shape your ability to speak up for yourself?
Are there certain people, topics, or spaces where speaking up still feels harder than others? Why do you think that is?
How can you support the part of you that still feels scared to speak?

Speaking your truth takes practice, the same as honouring your boundaries does. And just like people push back when you set a boundary, expect some pushback when you start speaking your truth too, especially in relationships and communities that were quietly built on secrets, lies, and illusions.

This is hard work. Be gentle with yourself while you do it. Take care of yourself. Reach out for support when you need it.

And when it gets hard, and it will, remember it's worth it. As Glennon Doyle says, we can do hard things. This is how we step out of the darkness, the shame, and the silence, and into the light. This is how we heal our families and our communities. You can do this.