Her Voice Within
By Alecs Kakon
In recent years, I’ve come to the realization that in the moment of a ‘fight or flight’ response, I freeze. I’m not sure when the shift happened, but I’ve grown painfully quiet over the years when it comes to speaking up and standing in my truth. I’ve led with fear and bowed out of uncomfortable situations so as to avoid conflict and anxiety. As a result, I’ve severed great friendships, stayed in toxic ones, and felt as though I had lost my voice. I could say that I didn’t speak up to spare myself potential pain, but the truth is I spared everyone, but myself. In making my external world slightly more palatable, I had turned my mind into an inhospitable place. I never thought any of this was an issue, but the more I kept my mouth shut over the years, the more I was quelling parts of myself to the detriment of my relationships both with myself and others. I learned that I fear confrontation, because standing up for myself always felt like a fight. I had never learned the skill of standing up for myself in a calm, yet assertive way. In my experience, speaking up tended to make me the target for mockery. I was invalidated or put on trial to defend myself. None of this was what I wanted to be a part of, but you’ve got to be stronger than the herd to stay on your own path. I’ve been working on my self-worth and confidence for years, and I have recently found my way over the once insurmountable brick wall. I know that in order to love myself, I have to fight for what I believe in, flee when the threat is undermining, and exercise my voice whenever possible. In sitting down with Desiree, I learned that I’m not the only one on this journey. We spoke about the language of love, feelings of being not enough, and about how she found her way to the sweet sound of her own voice.
Growing up in a Philipino household in Montreal, Desiree was taught very young that ambition, hard work, and financial security were indispensable values that would provide her with the foundation for a good life. Militant mother in tow, her house, although filled with love, was governed in a way that Desiree learned there was one linear path to follow, and anything else would veer her off the course to success, and by proxy, maternal acceptance. A repressive quality coloured her home as Desiree was never taught to express her emotions or commune on equal footing with her parents. Little room to explore herself, Desiree’s relationship with her mother became a site of conflict, because although she could not adequately identify her own values and beliefs, it was undeniable that they stood in contrast her mother’s. Rather than communicating through the tension, for lack of emotional reach and a vocabulary with which to support her, Desiree’s internalization of her upbringing was a reflection of her unworthiness; a feeling of not being enough. “I always thought that if I worked hard, then my mom would love me, but it never worked,” she explains. “I remember we would always have these boxes packed to send back to family in the Philippines. They would be filled with all sorts of things including chocolate, but whenever I would ask for chocolate, there wasn’t any for me to have. I just remember that feeling of not being enough, even if it’s just because of something so simple as my mom not giving me chocolate.”
Looking back, from where she stands now, Desiree has realized that the missing element to accessing herself was the constant denial of a vocal presence. Had she been able to work this stuff out in the moment and felt safe to ask questions, perhaps this feeling of not-enoughness wouldn’t have snowballed into a boulder standing between her and true self. “I remember I was 8 years old and was at my neighbour’s house waiting for my parents to come home from work. The father made a sarcastic remark that got me very upset and defensive. I ran home. He felt awful and wrote me a letter apologizing for his behaviour. I remember reading the card and feeling uncomfortably weird. I cried so much and I didn’t understand why. I think I just wanted that kind of connection with my own mother.” At the time, Desiree left those feelings unexplored. It had become easier to push everything into a deep, dark box, and trudge along through life blindly, but eventually it all caught up with her.
At 23 years old, Desiree met the man she would eventually marry. A hardworking, ambitious man who provided her with financial stability, Desiree hitched her wagon to his horse, so to speak, and together built an empire. His empire. “He went into the club business and I helped run the place from behind the scenes,” she explains. “At one point, all my insecurities started to catch up with me. I started becoming a very angry person, so angry that my co-workers would call my angry alter ego, Deserita,” she laughs reflectively. After two rounds of IVF treatments, a few clubs in, a young daughter, and a relationship that had been reduced to conflict, Desiree found out that her husband had cheated on her. The marriage began to drift and by 35, they were divorced. “I was awakened to the fact that I expressed myself through anger, but I also learned that my anger was a manifestation of my pain. I realized my emotions were stunted because I had disconnected my mind from my body. After my divorce, I could have gone many ways, but I went inward.”
Desiree hit reset on her life. Faced with the existential question ‘who am I?’ Desiree was left with absolutely no response. “I knew I had to figure it out. I wanted to let go of all the anger, because I wanted to be present for my daughter.” With therapy, good friends, and immeasurable time spent introspecting, Desiree unpacked the impact her upbringing had on her and found a positive light with which to brighten her past. “We have different love languages. When I think back to my mom, she was doing the best she could given her context. This helps me revisit my past with a new lens.” Knowing she wanted to spread the wealth of her newfound knowledge, Desiree created Les Lilas Society with her friend Joëlle. “It’s a storytelling community where women convene to share their stories. We’ve recently created the same format but men only, called Les Monarques. It started because I needed to find something for myself. I wanted to give back to others, to help them feel empowered by standing in their truth. I was over the small talk, I wanted to get deep; something nourishing,” Desiree explains. “The first time I shared my story it was raw and it was so hard, and it still is, but rather than feeling alone and sad, crying in my room, I found my voice and connected to people around me.” Desiree has learned to identify her values, which has filled her life with happiness and purpose. But more importantly, she has learned to stand in her truth and shares it with the world.
After checking in with herself, and taking inventory of past events, slowly unfolding what everything meant and how it all amalgamated into the person she had become, Desiree had ironed it all out. Despite her father’s kindness and a common-sense knowledge that her mother loved her, Desiree pinpointed that her anger was the internalized materialization of never feeling enough, never feeling heard. Her spirit felt the ominous oppression of duty and conventional success, never clearing the way for exploration, self-discovery, and self-awareness. But, as she started taking control over the space in which her mind, body and spirit reside, she has been able to look beyond the little girl that lives within to give rise to her mother’s childhood, allowing context to emerge and forgiveness to abound. Desiree brims with self-reflection, abundant emotional perception, and holds a microphone to her voice (metaphorically and literally) more often than she ever thought she would do. Her dictionary for self-expression has opened a floodgate for a life filled with generosity, love, and a strong sense of giving back.
All photos by Jenni Fellegi
