There’s a moment—every writer knows it—when you hover above the keyboard and wonder whether what you’re about to say really matters. Whether anyone will care. Whether your story, your insight, or your perspective is “enough.”

If you’ve felt that hesitation, you’re in good company.

Every writer I’ve ever met—every creator, speaker, and human with something to say—runs into that same quiet fear.

Yet here’s the truth, too many of us forget: Your voice is one of the rarest assets you will ever own. And the world becomes a little dimmer every time you choose silence.

I was reminded of this today during the Author Showcase. As I looked around the room at people bravely sharing their work, I felt it again—the conviction that each of us carries something deeply personal and deeply needed.

I said something I believe with my whole heart: You are a gift to the world. And gifts are meant to be shared.

Let’s talk about what that means for you—and for all of us.

The World Doesn’t Need a Perfect Voice — It Needs Your True One

We tend to imagine that only polished, poetic, and perfectly crafted expressions are worth sharing. That only “great writers” have something meaningful to say. And that our voice must earn its place first before it deserves to be heard.

But think back to the moments that changed you. A book that pierced you. A conversation that awakened something in you. A sentence that clung to you for years.

Chances are, it wasn’t flawless language that moved you. It was honesty. Humanity. A brave voice telling a truth you didn’t know you needed.

That’s the power of your voice. Not because it imitates anyone else’s. But because it can’t.

There has never been—and will never be—another person with your exact blend of insight, compassion, memory, humor, trauma, healing, and lived experience. You are a one-time event in human history.

Silence hides all of that. Your voice reveals it.

And the moment you share something sincere, something only you can say, you create a moment of recognition in someone else. A spark. A connection. A chance to breathe easier.

Every Time You Speak Up, Someone Else Feels Less Alone

Writers underestimate the power of being understood.

We spend so much time trying to be brilliant or original that we forget the simplest purpose of writing:

Connection.

Understanding.

Human resonance.

Somewhere right now, someone is wrestling with a fear you’ve already walked through.

Someone is facing a crossroads you’ve already survived.

Someone is searching for a story that sounds exactly like yours.

When you speak, you create belonging.

You build bridges.

You place a hand on someone’s shoulder without ever meeting them.

You might never read their comment.

You might never see their face.

But someone out there will read your words and think, “Oh. It’s not just me.” That moment is worth more than all the perfection you could ever try to chase.

Fear Isn’t a Stop Sign — It’s Proof You’re Doing Something That Matters

Almost every breakthrough in your life probably had fear sitting right next to it. Fear is highly reliable—it always shows up at the threshold of growth.

Sharing your voice triggers all the usual questions:

Who am I to write this?

What if no one cares?

What if I get it wrong?

What if they judge me?

What if I’m not ready?

Here’s the twist that changes everything: Fear doesn’t show up because you’re unqualified. Fear shows up because your voice has power. If your words had no impact, fear wouldn’t bother. Fear isn’t a command to stop. It’s evidence that you’re stepping into a bigger version of yourself.

The writers who thrive aren’t the fearless ones. They’re the ones who type through the trembling. They’re the ones who speak before they feel ready. They’re the ones who stop waiting for perfection and start trusting their truth.

Bravery is not the absence of fear. Bravery is a movement in the presence of it.

Your Voice Is a Form of Service

We often think of using our voice as self-expression. But it’s bigger than that.

Sharing your voice is an act of service. Your insight might shorten someone else’s struggle. Your story might help someone feel less ashamed. Your honesty might be the first breath of air someone has taken in days. Your perspective might become the missing puzzle piece someone was searching for. Your voice might be the exact medicine another person needs. And you may never know it.

This is why I urge writers—especially new or hesitant ones—to share more generously, not less. To trust the quiet wisdom they’re carrying. To offer their gifts without waiting for validation.

When you speak from your heart, you’re not drawing attention to yourself. You’re giving something meaningful to someone else.

You Are a Gift. And the World Needs You Now.

If you take nothing else from this piece—or from what I shared at the Author Showcase—take this:

Your voice is not something you earn. It’s something you already possess. It doesn’t need permission. It doesn’t need absolute clarity. It doesn’t need universal approval.

It just needs to be used.

You grow as a writer not by hiding until you’re “ready,” but by showing up consistently.  You find your voice by using your voice.