Behind-the-Scenes to Being Seen

Unsubscribing to an inherited story that I allowed to hold me back

Mar 27, 2025

During my early elementary years, I spoke on many stages.

My summer days were filled with parades, coronations, and community events. I participated in local pageants and became the Junior Queen in a nearby city, and a year later I competed in the larger competitions and was crowned Junior Princess.

Speaking in front of a large audience felt effortless to me. My dad would help me write my speeches. We would practice many times over in the car as we drove to the next parade, the next coronation, and the next community event. Some speeches I would memorize and other speeches I would have the support of the printed words. With all eyes on me, I do not remember being scared or nervous to speak to hundreds of people in the audience.

Young and unafraid, I felt like this would be a part of my future in some capacity. My inner voice told me at different seasons of my life throughout elementary, middle school, and high school that I would one day be speaking in front of many people again.

Then, things shifted as I got older. I’d ask myself over and over again, what happened? What shifted?

Reflecting on the years, I saw the parallel between the politics of my parent’s beloved country and what started to feel like a paralysis of sharing your truth.

I inherited a story that the truth-tellers are always exiled.

I witnessed the first loves of my life, my beloved parents, sacrifice their chance of safely returning to their homeland because many years ago, they actively chose (and still actively choose) to speak the truth of their beloved country’s dire situation.

I have witnessed their longing for their parents.

I have witnessed them missing relative’s weddings, life events, and special occasions.

I have witnessed them emotionally and financially support generations of family members.

And the hardest part to witness was the loss of all of my grandparents and my parent’s inability to pay homage to their first home, say their goodbyes, and have the traditional closure of the people they revered the most in their lives.

The devastation of witnessing and attempting to hold space for them over the years brings tears to my eyes as I write this. The words I write do not give their pain and what I have witnessed justice. I have yet to find the words that can truly capture the longing, grief, anger, and rage I have felt over the years on their behalf.

Yet, their unwavering commitment to truth and justice fills the gap of grief.

As a highly sensitive and deeply empathetic daughter, I unknowingly absorbed the grief and the sacrifices associated with sharing your truth. For years of my life, I equated sharing your truth and beliefs as being unsafe.

It became a complicated reality.

On one hand, I revere truth-tellers. On the other hand, it scared the shit outta me to follow in their footsteps.

And then, I remembered whose daughter I was.

And then, I remembered I am a mother to a daughter.

Honoring Our Voice

Something I have observed is that many of us carry ancestral memories of what happens when we dare to disrupt and when we dare to name the things others fear to say out loud.

I am reminded that if you have inherited a story that says speaking your truth is unsafe, that being fully seen means exile, or that your voice will cost you love and belonging–you are not alone and you can create new stories to subscribe to.

And all of the threads of your new stories, weaved together, create a new tapestry. Story by story. Thread by thread.

This is the journey from behind-the-scenes to being seen. The shift is individual and collective. It is healing. It is a reclamation. And it is absolutely necessary.

The sacred stories within us deserve a space to be seen and heard.

The liberating reality is that when we reclaim our right to be seen and heard, we are not just speaking for ourselves–we are speaking for every ancestor who was silenced, every generation that was told to shrink.

And speaking of shrinking…

Let me share the message that came over me during one of my morning movement practices:

silencing your truth,

shrinking and playing small,

and subscribing to the status quo,

serves the supremacies.

And that my friends, is what we are not going to do.

Affirm Yourself and Your Story

As often as possible, remind yourself:

Telling your truth is an act of love. Love for yourself, love for those who came before you, and love for those who will come after you.

There is no shame in outgrowing inherited stories. Just because your lineage carried it does not mean you have to. You are allowed to choose a different path forward.

Your story is a bridge. It connects the unspoken past to the unfolding future. It weaves new possibilities into existence.

What’s On Your Heart?

I would love to hear about your experiences.

What expired narratives are you shattering this season?

What new stories are you creating and subscribing to?

What is the texture of the tapestry you are designing for yourself and your lineage?

I look forward to continuing this conversation.

Ascending with Amita

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