How You Sound to Others

I found the memo by accident.

Three months old.

Hit play without thinking.

My own voice came through the speaker

and I didn't recognize it.

It was smaller than I thought.

More apologetic.

The kind of voice that apologizes

before it speaks,

that turns statements

into questions.

I was talking about something—

I can't remember what—

but my voice was begging.

Begging for permission,

for validation,

for someone to tell me

I was allowed

to take up this much air.

I listened to the whole thing

feeling sick.

The way I kept saying sorry.

The way I trailed off

like I didn't believe

my own words,

like I needed someone else

to prove

I existed.

That's how I sound.

That's who I am

when I don't think

anyone's listening.

I thought I was someone

who took up space.

Turns out

I'm someone asking

permission.

I deleted the memo.

But I can still hear it—

that voice,

smaller than mine,

apologetic,

begging,

the real one,

the one everyone hears

but me.