I am talented in public speaking. I can grab an audience’s attention and speak hard truths while making them laugh. I am a good listener. I desire people to be heard when they are with me. I write like I talk; you can love it or leave it. I was almost in my fifties before someone asked me what I wanted. I had no answer, no response. No one had ever asked me before, and I stuttered; tears filled my eyes, and I was left speechless. I am great with words, to help others, but to express my own needs, wants and desires. I was clueless.
For the longest time, I didn’t realize that I wasn’t genuinely expressing my needs. I believed staying quiet, accommodating others, and avoiding conflict was the “right” way to navigate relationships. But that silence came at a cost—it left me feeling unheard, unseen, and, honestly, a little resentful.
Permitting myself to articulate my needs was a transformative moment. It meant acknowledging that my feelings, desires, and boundaries mattered. It wasn’t about waiting for others to validate me or asking for permission to speak—it was about deciding that my voice had value.
When I gave myself this permission, I stopped waiting for the perfect moment or fearing how others might react. I realized that articulating my needs wasn’t selfish or demanding; it was self-care. It was a way of saying to myself:
• My voice matters, and it deserves to be heard.
• I’m not responsible for how others react to my truth—that’s their journey, not mine.
• Expressing my needs is an act of love, not only for myself but also for my relationships.
I had to unlearn years of conditioning that told me to be agreeable, to avoid being “too much,” or to prioritize everyone else’s comfort over my own. Giving myself permission meant breaking free from those old stories and honoring what I needed to feel whole and authentic.
When I finally started articulating my needs, it felt liberating. I learned to say things like:
• “I need time for myself to recharge.”
• “I want us to talk about how we can communicate better.”
• “I desire a relationship built on mutual respect and understanding.”
These weren’t demands; they were declarations of self-respect. And while it wasn’t always easy, I realized that speaking my truth opened the door to deeper connections with those who truly cared about me.
Permitting myself to articulate my needs changed how I saw myself—it was no longer about control or manipulation. It was about stepping into my truth, even when it felt vulnerable or scary. It reminded me that my voice mattered and that being honest about my needs was the most authentic way to show up in my life and relationships.
One of the most impactful lessons I learned from my mentor was the importance of clarity in communication. She would often remind me:
“You need to use your nouns, verbs, and adjectives. To have a good relationship, you need to say them, and you need to hear them.”
At first, it sounded simple—almost too simple. But as I began to practice it, I realized how profound it truly was. Expressing my needs, wants, and desires in clear, concrete terms brought a new level of honesty and understanding to my relationships.
This simple but powerful approach has transformed the way I express myself and connect with others. It’s a reminder that clarity isn’t just about what we say—it’s about how we invite others into a dialogue that fosters mutual understanding.
Learning to articulate my needs, wants, and desires wasn’t easy. I had to face a lot of internal resistance—fear of being judged, fear of rejection, and, most of all, fear of being seen as selfish or demanding. Those fears were deeply rooted in past experiences and societal expectations, especially as a woman who was taught to prioritize others’ needs over my own.
One of the most significant barriers was the belief that expressing my needs would make me a burden. But over time, I learned that the real burden comes from holding everything inside—letting resentment and misunderstanding build instead of creating space for authentic connection.
Here’s how I started to overcome those barriers:
- Challenging Old Narratives
I had to unlearn the idea that prioritizing my voice meant diminishing someone else’s. Articulating my needs wasn’t about taking from others but showing up fully in my relationships. I began to reframe my mindset:
• Speaking up doesn’t make me difficult; it makes me honest.
• Expressing myself invites connection, not conflict.
- Embracing Vulnerability
There’s always a risk in being honest—others might not respond how I hope. But I realized that vulnerability is the bridge to deeper relationships. It’s not about controlling others’ reactions; it’s about showing up authentically and trusting the process.
- Practicing “I” Statements
When I started sentences with “I feel” or “I need,” it shifted the focus from blame to self-awareness. For example, instead of “You never listen to me,” I said, “I feel unheard when we don’t talk about things that matter to me.”
This small adjustment made a huge difference in how my words were received.
- Setting Boundaries with Compassion
Articulating needs also meant setting boundaries. At first, it felt uncomfortable, but I realized that boundaries aren’t walls; they’re bridges to healthier interactions. They allow me to protect my energy without shutting people out.
- Letting Go of the Outcome
The hardest lesson was surrendering control over how others reacted. I had to accept that some people might not meet my needs—and that was okay. Articulating them wasn’t about guaranteeing a response; it was about honoring myself.
There’s a profound sense of freedom that comes when I surrender to the truth of my needs, wants, and desires—and allow myself to articulate them without fear. For so long, I believed that speaking up was about control: controlling how I was perceived, the outcome of conversations, or how others might respond. The real breakthrough came when I let go of that control entirely.
Surrendering taught me that my role isn’t to manage others’ reactions but to honor my own truth. It’s about showing up authentically, even when it feels vulnerable, and trusting that the right people will meet me where I am. I discovered that the power lies not in getting what I want but in the act of expressing myself. Each time I speak my truth, it’s as if I reclaim a piece of who I am.
In surrendering, I’ve learned to let go of the outcome. My truth matters whether or not others fully understand or meet my needs. This shift lifted a weight off my shoulders and allowed me to focus on building connections that are genuine and rooted in mutual respect.
It hasn’t always been easy. Surrender requires me to embrace discomfort, risk misunderstandings, and find the courage to try again when conversations don’t go as planned. Yet, in doing so, I’ve found that growth often comes through the most challenging moments.
Most importantly, surrendering to my needs, wants, and desires has allowed me to live in alignment with who I truly am. I no longer feel the need to hide parts of myself or shrink to fit others’ expectations. This freedom is a quiet but powerful gift—a reminder that embracing my truth creates space for deeper peace and more authentic connections than I ever thought possible.
My story continues. Learning never stops and being vulnerable enough to write out my struggles helps me. I am using nouns, verbs and adjectives to share my story. I have to find purpose in all of this. My purpose has always need to be a storyteller with life lessons thrown in.
