Episode 1 The Voice You Didn’t Know You Lost
When being ‘the nice person’ costs you everything.
There are times when, little by little, we start losing ourselves—without anyone noticing.
Have you ever caught your reflection in the mirror and thought, “Who is that?”
Your career is on track. Your relationship looks fine. People say you’re strong, dependable.
And yet… there’s a constant tension deep inside.
Like something’s not quite right, but you can’t put your finger on it.
“If I just stay quiet, everything will be alright.”
“I need to be stronger.”
“Maybe I’m just too sensitive.”
You’ve probably told yourself these things more times than you can count.
But maybe—just maybe—it was never your fault to begin with.
This is the story of Marina, a woman who carried those quiet thoughts for years.
When I first met her on a video call, she seemed as delicate as a snowflake melting in your palm.
In a soft voice, she said,
“I don’t know anyone I can talk to … I think I’m reaching my limit.”
Her eyes looked far off, as if she wasn’t fully here.
And still—she showed up. Something in her had chosen to reach out.
I told her gently, from the bottom of my heart:
“I’m so glad you made it here. Thank you for holding on until now.”
She nodded slightly, pressing her lips together.
During our session, she shared that she wanted to build more confidence through coaching.
So I asked, “When do you feel like you’re lacking confidence?”
She answered carefully:
“At work. I’ve been at my company for eight years. Recently, I’ve been up for a promotion… and my husband’s been giving me advice.”
The word “advice” usually suggests kindness—but there was a heaviness in her voice.
“What kind of advice does he give you?” I asked.
“Everything—how to make slides, how to structure my presentations… He means well, and most of the time, it’s fine, but…”
But the word “fine” didn’t match the tension in her shoulders.
I gently asked one more question:
“When did he start getting so involved in your work?”
“Ever since the promotion came up. He said, ‘You need to take this more seriously or you’ll miss your chance.’”
The air seemed to shift.
What looked like support on the outside now felt more like pressure—tightening around her.
From the outside, they seemed just fine.
But who really held the power in their relationship?
“How do you feel about his involvement?” I asked.
After a long pause, she murmured,
“I guess I just have to accept it…”
How much resignation and helplessness were packed into those few words?
I asked gently,
“I have a hunch… May I share it?”
She nodded quietly.
“Is there a part of you that doesn’t actually want him involved in your work?”
Her eyes widened.
“That’s exactly it. I remember now. There was one time I said, ‘I want to do this on my own.’
I was so nervous. And all he said was, ‘No.’
Just like that.
I never brought it up again.”
And just like that, her small, honest wish had been erased—like it never existed.
“No matter how hard I try, I never meet his standards. He says my brain is wired differently.
He tells me, ‘Why can’t you do it?’ ‘You’re contradicting yourself from weeks ago.’ ‘You need to focus more.’…”
Her voice began to fade.
“It’s my job, but all I feel is the weight of his expectations. He does help me, yes—and at the same time, he’ll say things like, ‘This isn’t my job,’ or ‘You’re a burden.’”
She no longer knew where to stand—walking this uncertain path alone.
I asked her gently:
“If we set aside his expectations for a moment… what do you want?”
Her answer still began with,
“Well, my husband…”
But her own wish—her voice—was missing.
If you’re someone like Marina—someone with a kind heart who always considers others— it’s possible that your kindness has slowly silenced your own voice.
Maybe you’ve even forgotten that it’s okay to want things like:
“I want to do this on my own.”
“This is what I think.”
“I don’t like that.”
Your feelings matter—just as much as anyone else’s.
Listening to your inner voice isn’t selfish.
It’s a small act of kindness toward yourself.
That nagging feeling you sometimes have?
It may be a quiet but important sign.
You don’t have to carry it all alone.
Your voice matters, and it’s still there—waiting for you to listen.
Bit by bit, may you start to reconnect with your own voice.