Last week, I wrote about the importance of saying what you mean and meaning what you say (check it out here for more context). But the more I’ve interacted with everyone who read it over this past week, the more I’ve realized it assumes something that isn’t always true: that we actually know what we mean. It is said that once you learn a skill, you forget how hard it was before you knew how to do it. And I suppose that is true because I have to consistently remind myself that not everyone went to medical school. In that same way I forget sometimes that learning to listen to my own intuition was hard-earned and took many, many years to learn.
Most of us spend years speaking in borrowed language. We learn what is acceptable to say, what earns approval, what keeps the peace, and what allows us to belong. We become fluent in other people’s expectations long before we become fluent in ourselves. We know how to give the right answer, wear the right mask, and play the right role. Yet somewhere along the way, many of us lose touch with the quiet voice underneath it all—the one that knows what we truly think, feel, and believe.
And if you’ve done this, you’re not broken. You’re human.
The need to belong is not a character flaw. It is a survival instinct. For most of human history, acceptance by the group wasn’t just emotionally comforting—it was necessary for survival. We are wired to seek connection. We are wired to avoid rejection. We are wired to look around and ask, “What is everyone else doing?” before asking ourselves, “What do I actually want?”
When you look at it that way, it makes perfect sense that so many of us struggle to hear our own voice. We’ve spent years becoming experts in reading the room. Sometimes we’re so busy reading the room that we forget to read ourselves.
Brené Brown often speaks about courage not as a lack of fear, but as the willingness to show up authentically despite fear. That idea has stayed with me because finding your voice is not really about confidence. It is about courage. It is about having the bravery to listen to yourself when your truth may be unpopular, inconvenient, or misunderstood. It is about trusting your own experience enough to stop outsourcing your identity to everyone around you.
Glennon Doyle describes this inner knowing as a voice that exists beneath the noise. A voice that is often drowned out by obligation, expectation, and the endless opinions of others. She writes about the importance of becoming quiet enough to hear it. I think that is where finding your voice begins—not by speaking more, but by listening more deeply.
In a previous article, I wrote about staying curious with yourself. About asking yourself what you want before assuming you already know the answer. I think curiosity is one of the most overlooked tools we have for finding our voice. Instead of judging ourselves, we can become students of ourselves. Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me?” we can ask, “What is this trying to tell me?” Instead of assuming we should already know, we can get curious.
The problem is that most of us have been trained to look outside ourselves for answers. We seek validation before making decisions. We poll friends before trusting our instincts. We search for certainty before taking action. We assume that someone else must know better than we do.
To be clear, I am not suggesting you make every major life decision based on a vague feeling you had while standing in the grocery store produce aisle. Wisdom matters. Advice matters. Community matters. But there is a difference between gathering information and abandoning yourself.
If you pay attention, there is often a moment before the advice arrives, before the opinions flood in, when you already know. There is a feeling in your chest, a pull in your gut, a quiet whisper that says yes, no, stay, leave, speak, wait. The voice is rarely loud. The challenge is learning to trust it.
I think we often imagine that people who have found their voice move through life with unwavering certainty. But in my experience, that isn’t true at all. Most brave people are not certain. They are simply willing to act in alignment with what they know, even while carrying doubt. Courage is not the absence of fear. It is the decision that your truth matters more than your fear.
Finding your voice also requires letting go of the belief that everyone will understand you. One of the hardest lessons I have learned is that authenticity and approval are not always compatible. The more honest you become, the more likely it is that some people will disagree with you, disappoint you, or misunderstand you. Yet the alternative is spending your life performing a version of yourself that feels acceptable while quietly losing touch with who you really are.
The irony is that when we stop trying to sound impressive, we often become more powerful. When we stop speaking from obligation and start speaking from conviction, people can feel the difference. There is a certain clarity that comes from truth. It doesn’t need to be loud. It doesn’t need to be perfect. It simply needs to be real.
Perhaps finding your voice is not about becoming someone new, but about returning to yourself. Peeling away the layers of conditioning, expectation, and fear until you can finally hear the wisdom that has been there all along. The voice that knows what matters. The voice that knows when something is wrong. The voice that knows when something is right. The voice that knows who you are.
Last week, I encouraged you to say what you mean and mean what you say. This week, I want to encourage you to do something that comes first. Get quiet. Stay curious. Pay attention to the wisdom that exists beneath the noise. Trust the voice that speaks before the world has a chance to tell you what to think.
Your voice is already there.
The brave part is listening.
If you’re new here, I’m Dr. Landon Eggleston, a board certified emergency medicine physician in Chicago. Clear View explores health and wellness through the lens of someone who interacts with life and death daily- offering a grounded perspective on what it truly means to make the most of your one wild and precious life. If you are looking for where to start, start here. If you want to read more, here’s what I’ve been working on recently: organization tools that were instrumental in my own success, what truly matters at the end of life, why high functioning humans are the loneliest, why crying is so important, and insight into seasonal depression. If perhaps you are here looking for a bit of ER drama, I’ve got you here and here. If you feel called to live with more clarity, intention, and courage, this space is for you. Subscribe for free to receive new posts and join the conversation.
This honestly hits right where I am right now. The reminder that finding your voice is about courage rather than just confidence, and that 'reading the room' is just a survival mechanism, is exactly what I needed to hear. It definitely gives me a lot to reflect on.
As a high schooler, it honestly feels like we’re trapped in that 'borrowed language' phase every single day. Between trying to fit in with friends, keeping up appearances, and checking the right boxes for the future, it's so easy to become an expert at playing a role rather than figuring out who you actually are. That part about having the courage to let your truth be 'inconvenient or misunderstood' really challenged me. It’s hard to do right now, but it's exactly the reminder I needed.
Thanks Dr. Eggleston!
Love this Landon, I can relate to many things here. It took a while to find my own voice and to let go of the things people have said around me, expectations, projections. Today I know what I stand for, and I stand for it very strongly. Many of my ideals, especially when it comes to marginalized groups, are not negotiable. As you said, not everyone will get it, sometimes it requires courage, but knowing what you believe in is worth the potential resistance.
(I am repeating myself, but great photos!!)