My Voice: A Journey from Silence to Song
Discovering my voice has been a journey. It was lost from birth and buried under uncertainty, whispers, and truths waiting to be expressed. I wasn’t given the chance to speak, to be heard, or even to cry. My life began shrouded in silence, as though the world had placed a mute button within me before I could utter a sound. My story doesn’t start with silence, but with a question: *Who am I?*
Adoption, especially at a young age, represents a paradox. The truth I grew up with is that I belong to two families. Life was a blend of two extremes, but there was also an ache, a pull toward the unknown. A question mark loomed over my existence: *Why didn’t my biological parents fight for me?*
Adoption has made me stronger, but I’ve also become incredibly vulnerable. I was raised by a family that gave me everything they could, and more. They showed me unconditional love and acceptance. Yet, a part of me has always wondered if my birth family think of me. Do they wonder if I’m okay? Do they ask the same questions I do? What did they feel when they let me go?
My biological father, now gone, visited me when I was a baby. I don’t remember him, but I wonder about the man he was. What did he hope for me? What did he feel when he had to walk away? Those unanswered questions swirl in my mind, yet I hold onto the fleeting moments I’ve been told about him—tiny connections that will never fill the gap in my heart.
I also communicate with my older sister through letterbox messages. It’s not the same as hugging her or hearing her laugh in person, but it’s a way to connect. Though we’re separated by distance, I carry her with me in my heart, just as she carries me in hers.
It’s strange, this dual existence. I speak the words of those who raised me, but also the words of the ones I never met. I sing their unspoken songs, songs of longing, of wanting to know who I am and where I come from. The weight of silence can feel heavy, but I’ve learned that my voice has always been mine, quiet and uncertain at times.
Adoption has taught me that belonging isn’t about blood or DNA. It’s about heartbeats—the ones we share and create. My voice is the sound of love that has carried me through every question and moment of fear. Today, I stand not as someone lost, but as someone found.
This is my voice—a voice that speaks of love, the questions I ask, and the strength I’ve found in the spaces between silence and sound. A voice that tells the world I am whole, I belong, and I will always be heard.
Judges Emma Norry and Callen Martin said: “This is an incredibly profound and beautifully written piece. At just 12 years old, the writer shows a level of emotional maturity and insight that is truly remarkable. The title “A Journey from Silence to Song” is stunningly metaphorical, capturing the transition from uncertainty to self-acceptance in a way that will deeply resonate with many care-experienced individuals. The writing skilfully portrays the duality of emotions — belonging and longing, silence and voice — with great sensitivity. The final line, “A voice that tells the world I am whole, I belong, and I will always be heard,” is an incredibly powerful expression of hope, identity, and strength.”