When I was young I remember quite vividly on two or three different occasions being told I shouldn't sing a certain way, or that my sisters didn't like my singing.  I also vividly remember the looks that accompanied those occasions.  I grew up knowing that I couldn't sing--I mean, obviously, if my sisters couldn't stand my singing it had to be pretty bad!  My sisters all sang with beautiful voices, and my parents both sang, so obviously they would know good and bad singing, right? 

I spent my life avoiding singing in choirs or public settings unless I was in a really large group, even then I purposely would turn my head away or stop singing if people looked at me.  I was embarrassed by my voice.

As I have grown older there have been many instances when people have told me I sing well...whether it be someone who sat near me in church or somehow other heard me.  I never really could fully believe them though.   As a teenager I was asked to sing a duet with one of my sisters and everyone told us how good we sounded, but I knew they really meant my sister sounded great.  When I married, my sisters and I were asked to sing several different times in church or large family settings.  Everyone always told us it was wonderful... but I knew what they really meant...  My husband on many different occasions tried to tell me that I had a good voice. It didn't matter who tried to tell me that I really could sing and could sing well... I didn't and couldn't believe them.  I knew the truth, because my sisters had told me.

About two months ago I was talking with one of my sisters and shared with her that I had used her good example in a lesson I had taught.  She then shared with me that she had also used me as an example in the same lesson, but had spoken of the negative power of words.  She had shared with the students in the class the story of how she and another sister had wanted to sing alone and didn't want me to sing with them and had therefore told me not to sing, etc... and about the devastating effects it had had on me.  She then shared with me that she had closed her example by telling the class that I had a beautiful, clear soprano voice and they (my siblings) attributed our daughter's beautiful voice to me.  (Ahna, our oldest daughter has a beautiful, clear soprano voice.  I have always attributed that to my husband's rich tenor voice.)

Her words made me cry, and still do...After all these years, to hear that she thinks my voice is of worth has made all the  difference in the world to me.  Finally, I feel as though I can sing unabashedly in public and not have to feel as though I should mumble or hide that I am singing or worry about whether I am hurting someone else's ears.  The weight her words took off my shoulders and heart has been palpable.  Her words have completely changed my tune.