The test results were in, and the news was good.
I was NEGATIVE for pneumonia, flu (both types – btw: who knew?), and COVID. What I had was a good old-fashioned cold, and it was kicking my butt—taking my voice in the process.
When someone asked how I was I said, “man down.” Because that is exactly how I felt. A bit dramatic? Perhaps. But, I’ve had COVID twice and neither time did I feel this awful.
But of all the symptoms I was managing, dealing with laryngitis for six-days (and counting) was the hardest. If for no other reason than it came at THE most inconvenient of times.
Last week, I had a full coaching calendar and was hosting the pricing masterclass. In other words, I needed to be able to talk…and, ideally, to do so with my full voice that matched my full energy.
Instead, I did it all with a raspy voice sounding like Eartha Kitt. (So, this is also a public thank you to my coaching clients and masterclass attendees for graciously bearing with my voice, and the one client that said, “let’s reschedule for next week.”)
There’s Always a Metaphor
A funny thing happens when you’re sick and you need to rest and recover…and unexpected silence is forced upon you.
Well, at least it did for me.
Especially as someone whose mind never stops “working,” even when I’m under the weather. I am continuously looking for metaphors that illuminate the intersection of money, business, and life. For example:
Losing my voice felt like a betrayal
On one particular day, the frustration of not being able to speak was piling up. Every attempt to force out a word or even a whisper felt like betrayal—like my own voice and body were working against me. No matter how hard I tried to go about my days as if my body and voice were healthy, I was having a hard time with the facts: they weren’t.
And in that moment, it hit me: this is exactly how many people feel about their money. They’re putting in the effort, doing the work, and following all the “rules,” yet their finances seem to be holding them back instead of moving them forward. It feels like betrayal—like you’re shouting into the void and getting nothing in return.
Losing my voice made even the smallest interactions challenging.
Saying “hello,” “thank you,” or even asking for help, became a game of charades and a display of how well I was able to communicate with my eyes.
Discussing finances—whether it’s negotiating a salary, setting boundaries with a partner, or explaining pricing to a client—can feel daunting and like the very last thing you want to do.
Shame, fear of judgment, or a lack of confidence often keep you silent, unable to express what you want and need.
Looking back, can you now identify more clearly the words you needed then that you can use today or in the future?
Losing my voice reminded me of the psychology of “pushing through”
I eat well (most of the time). Most weeks, I work out six-days. But, I suffer from what I’d describe as the “one more thing syndrome.” I am the queen of “doing one more thing”—sending one more email; making one more revision; doing one more take.
Sure, some of it revolves around perseverance and grit, and some of it is due to cultural conditioning, self-identity (I’ve always been driven), and that feeling of not wanting to fail because I didn’t give it my all.
But, this wicked cold forced me to slow down.
I know rest isn’t optional. I know healing doesn’t happen when you push through; it happens when you pause, reflect, and give yourself permission to recover.
Financial health works the same way.
Don’t know? Maybe these examples can help; are you:
- taking on more clients than you actually have capacity for;
- ignoring your financial stress, hoping it’ll resolve itself without a plan (or by simply working more in order to earn more);
- sticking to outdated strategies because “quitting” feels like failure.
While any of the above may bring temporary relief, they don’t lead to sustainable results.
Just as my voice needed rest, your finances might be giving you a signal that you’re suffering from the psychology of “pushing through.”
Maybe your money is telling you it needs you to slow down and make space for reflection.
Losing my voice was emotional.
I am an only child. I live alone. I’m no stranger to quiet. I’ve even sought it out, spending time on silent retreats where the absence of words becomes a choice—a space to reset, reflect, and reconnect. I find silence comforting when it’s intentional.
But this was different.
This was silence I didn’t choose. It wasn’t a planned retreat but a forced exile from my own voice. And what made it harder wasn’t just the absence of sound; it was the loss of control.
I had no control over how long it’d last, nor could I speed up the effects of all the things I was doing to “fix” it. The unknown felt suffocating.
A reason I ask is how this experience reminded me of how some people approach money when it feels unpredictable.
When your finances feel out of control for any number of reasons—unexpected expenses, mounting debt, income uncertainty—you have two key choices: you can suppress natural emotions like fear, frustration, or disappointment, or you can acknowledge these emotions.
The former may feel like “control,” but that actually comes from the latter, which allows you to process them so you can make the best next choice possible.
Losing my voice reminded me of my gift.
By nature, I’m a great listener. (I actually think this is a by-product of me being an only child.) I not only hear what is said, I often hear what isn’t. So, listening deeply is both who I am and what I do.
Interestingly, when you can’t speak, you are forced to listen.
The art of listening is a skill we don’t often associate with money, but it’s essential.
I’m known for saying money is talking to you all the time. But, how well are you listening?
Whether you’re working with a financial advisor or coach, discussing finances with a partner, or even listening to your own thoughts, deep listening fosters understanding and connection.
The Power of Rest & Recovery
As I write, I am much better than I was, but I am still not 100%. Yet, I am grateful for the progress I’ve made and continue to make.
Likewise, I’m glad that during one of my recovery naps I heard (and listened to) that small voice that sparked this exploration.
My hope is that me losing my actual voice serves as a reminder for you when it comes to your financial voice. Especially if you’re currently experiencing an unexpected silence.
So, remember this: Your voice (financial and otherwise) is a tool for advocating, healing, and connecting—not just with others but with yourself. And, most important: it matters…a lot!