Freedom to speak

I used to be afraid of speaking. Afraid of giving my opinion. Afraid of being wrong. Afraid of being yelled at.

For a long time, my silence felt safer than my truth.

That fear didn’t come from nowhere. It was built slowly—layer by layer—starting in childhood and reinforced in a mentally abusive relationship that taught my nervous system to stay small, quiet, agreeable. Living with Marilyn was the beginning of learning that telling the truth didn’t protect me. If I told the truth, nobody believed me. If I lied, I still didn’t win. There was no version of myself that felt safe enough to exist fully.

I grew up thinking I was a liar—because that’s what I was told—even when I was telling the truth. That belief followed me into adulthood and into a relationship that was never meant to be. It mirrored everything my body had learned to accept because I didn’t yet know any better. My body yearned for what was familiar, not what was healthy.

Silence became survival.

“Freedom to Speak” was created at the moment that survival finally loosened its grip.

I can’t tell you if it’s age, therapy, or simply exhaustion from carrying fear for so long—but something shifted. There is a quiet, undeniable power in no longer caring what others think of you or your opinions. Not in a hardened way, but in a grounded one. A way that says: I know who I am now.

I learned how to set boundaries.How to say no without apology.How to express how I feel without bracing for punishment.

And most importantly, I learned that my voice doesn’t need permission.

This painting was part of my Freedom Collection—a small, three-piece abstract series I created at the beginning of last year. Each piece was a tribute to the freedom I found after healing. After years of hiding. After years of shrinking myself to survive spaces that were never safe for me to be fully seen.

“Freedom to Speak” holds all of that release.

It holds the grief of a woman who was silenced for too long. And the relief of a woman who finally understands that her truth is enough.

The freedom to speak is powerful for a woman. It is not loud or aggressive. It is steady. Rooted. Unshakeable. It is the moment you stop asking yourself if you’re allowed to be heard—and start speaking anyway.

This painting is for anyone who has been hiding behind their anxiety, waiting to speak. For anyone who learned that silence was safer than honesty .For anyone who is finally realizing that their voice deserves space.

Your truth does not need to be defended to be real. Your voice does not need to be softened to be worthy.

Freedom begins the moment you speak.