When noise gets too much
I read something today that struck a chord — a writer talking about being an introvert, about how we don’t need crowds or noise to create.
He said he borrows confidence from his old “stage self” when he needs to promote his books — and that made me smile, because I think a lot of us do that.
We find our voice quietly, then borrow a braver version of ourselves to share it.
When I was a teacher, I had my own voice, but as an introvert I often had to borrow a braver version of myself to share my ideas. It was nerve-wracking — especially in front of a new class or when starting a new topic.
But by simply being myself, a lot of students found their own voice too, in whatever form that took.
I’ve known a lot of people who are just loud — maybe because they want to fit in, are insecure, or that’s just who they are. They want everyone to hear them.
But that’s not me. Around that sort of energy, I get overwhelmed and frustrated. I prefer deeper, more honest writing.
I like people who are just who they are — raw edges and all.
For me, the worlds I’ve made — Beedilly Lane, Middle Woe, and now The Silver Strand — are all parts of that same voice. They’re how I make sense of things.
Each one is a space where stories matter more than shouting — where humour, history, and a hint of wonder replace the endless scroll of noise.
Beedilly Lane is curiosity and connection, born from my love of history and the dots that link past to present.
Middle Woe is the dry laughter that keeps us human. I’ve always loved a good bit of comedy — from Have I Got News For You to Keeping Up Appearances.
And The Silver Strand — this is my new outlet for women with a little silver in their hair who want a quieter space to find peace in doing, not overthinking.
I think that’s what I keep coming back to — Finding ways to be heard in my own voice. Not louder. Just me.
