The Voice That Spoke Over Me

Metaphorical Narrative

It comes fast.
The interrupting voice that slices through your words as if you were never there. It feels like a hand pushing your face aside, a sneer declaring: “How dare you speak.”

In that flash, your body remembers years of being muted. The burn in your chest, the tightening in your jaw, the sting of vanishing mid-sentence. The old mind rushes in with a verdict: “You don’t deserve the floor.”

But today, something changes.
You don’t fight for scraps. You don’t shrink into silence. You take the whip of that voice, crack it in the air, and watch it dissolve in fire. The ash falls, and what’s left is your calm, steady presence.

Core Insight

Being spoken over is not just about noise. It’s about erasure — an attempt to collapse your existence into the background. Old patterns train you to either explode in anger or retreat in shame. Both are traps.

The new mind knows another path: sovereignty. You don’t ask for permission to exist. Your voice doesn’t need defending. You simply keep speaking, grounded in the fact that presence itself is authority.

Saturday Experiment

1. When someone interrupts, pause and breathe. Notice the physical surge.
2. Instead of shrinking or fighting, calmly finish your thought — even if only to yourself out loud.
3. End with a declaration: “My words stand. I am here.”

Sunday Reflection

• When the old voice tried to erase them, how did they hold their ground?
• What did their body feel like once they refused to vanish?
• In what moments this week did their calm presence speak louder than interruption?