Sometimes, when you start expanding your life or stepping into something new (like writing here on Substack), you realize something becomes unavoidable.
You have to use your voice. Share your thoughts, your story, what you really feel. You have to put yourself out there in ways that feel vulnerable. And when you start doing that, a lot of emotions come up.
Recently, I watched the animated feature KPop Demon Hunters on Netflix. For anyone who hasn’t seen it, it follows a K-pop girl group called HUNTR/X who live a double life. On stage they’re global superstars, and off stage they’re demon hunters protecting their fans from supernatural threats. The group’s leader, Rumi, carries a secret she’s terrified of. She’s part demon herself. It won the 2026 Academy Award for Best Animated Feature, along with Best Original Song for “Golden.”
But there’s another song in the film called “What It Sounds Like.” When I first heard it, I got unexpectedly emotional. Because the lyrics didn’t just remind me that we’re not alone; they brought up something much deeper. The many ways I’ve silenced my voice throughout my life.
One line goes:
“The worst of what I came from, patterns I’m ashamed of.”
Throughout our lives, we go through experiences that teach us things about ourselves, both good and bad. And there are also things you carry forward with you. Things you don’t want to admit and things you feel ashamed of.
For me, that was getting caught up in unhealthy relationships. Maybe it’s the same for you, or maybe it’s something different. But the same feelings can still show up: pain, sadness, confusion.
When I was in those relationships, I kept trying to fix it. I’d tell myself if I just tried harder, loved better, held on tighter, it would work. And at the same time, there was a part of me that already knew it wouldn’t.
There was a constant battle happening inside me. Part of me wanted to leave. Another part was still trying to hold everything together, still hoping it would change.
And when those relationships finally ended, it wasn’t like everything went back to normal. Those experiences stay with you. They live in your body. And for a long time, I didn’t understand that.
And back then, I didn’t really stop to feel any of it. I was a single mom, and I told myself I didn’t have the time. Maybe part of me wasn’t ready to, and being busy gave me somewhere to put all of it.
I really thought leaving would be the end of it. I’d gotten out, so I told myself I was fine. I’d be ok. But the thing I wasn’t ready to feel was that none of it actually left me. It was still in my body, waiting, whether I looked at it or not.
For a long time, I felt broken. I felt like I didn’t know who I was anymore. I’d gone so numb to protect myself that I’d lost contact with my own self. I couldn’t tell what I wanted or what I needed, because I’d spent so long not letting myself feel any of it.
But over time, something shifted. I started seeing the beauty in those broken pieces. Not because what happened was okay. Because of what I learned. I’ve grown so much from those experiences, and I understand myself more deeply now.
Some incredible gifts came from those years too. My three children are the greatest gifts of all. And now my adorable granddaughter too. Without them, I wouldn’t be here writing this today.
This is the lyric that really landed:
“My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like.”
That one line stopped me. Because for much of my life, I’ve dimmed my voice. Not always saying what I was really feeling. Holding back because I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I didn’t want to lose anyone. I didn’t want to be judged.
But when I listened to this song, during the scene where the main character finally accepts who she is and is supported by her friends and fans, something powerful stood out.
As a collective energy of strength, all of their voices came together, singing as one: “This is what it sounds like.” And that unity gave them the courage to conquer the demon.
That moment moved me, because she finally showed who she truly was. And it reminded me that our voices matter. That’s what female empowerment really looks like to me. It’s about women speaking their truth. Sharing their stories. Standing with each other.
Because none of us is alone in these experiences. Many of us carry similar stories, similar wounds in different ways. When we share our voices, we remind each other of that truth. We bring light into places that once felt dark.
And sometimes a song can remind you of something you didn’t even realize you needed to hear. Music is beautiful that way. Everyone hears something a little different depending on what they're going through in their own life.
For me, this song is a reminder that my voice has strength. To share my story. To talk about the things that once felt too painful or too shameful to say out loud.
Will I still get scared, nervous, and hesitate before I share anything vulnerable? Of course I will.
But I know there are other women out there who feel the same way. Women who’ve been through similar experiences and are still finding their voice.
And if that’s you, you’re not alone. Let’s be courageous together.
If you haven’t watched KPop Demon Hunters yet, I highly recommend it. Beneath the animation, there’s a powerful message about self-acceptance, self-trust, supporting one another, and the power of our voices when they come together.
This is exactly why I started writing here. If this resonated with you, you're the kind of woman I write for here.
Women who are learning to trust themselves again and choose love from clarity, not survival.