Speaking My Mind? Blame It on My Father

“You finally found your voice,” a friend remarked the other day. 

He was referring to some of my recent postings, where I’ve begun speaking out and commenting on issues that matter to me. 

For years, I wasn’t that person. I kept my thoughts to myself—whether out of politeness, fear of criticism, or the belief that my words didn’t matter. It felt easier to stay silent than to risk saying something that might stir disagreement. But lately, I’ve come to realise that silence is not always harmless. Sometimes silence means complicity. And if you see something wrong yet choose to keep quiet, you’re still part of the problem. 

When I think about this shift in me, I cannot help but think of my late father. He was a man who never struggled to find his voice. In fact, he often spoke when others hesitated. 

I remember how, at family gatherings, he would challenge relatives on their views if he felt they were wrong, even if it made the room uncomfortable. 

At work, he was known to speak up when something didn’t sit right with him, regardless of whether his opinion was popular. 

As a child, I sometimes found it hard to understand him. I would think, Why can’t he just let it go? Why must he always say something? 

At times, I even wished he would soften his words, avoid rocking the boat. 

But now, with hindsight, I see the strength it took. He wasn’t being difficult; he was being true to himself.

His words weren’t meant to hurt, but to point out what others refused to. 

Perhaps that’s what’s happening to me now. Without realising it, I am becoming more like him. 

When I write or speak out today, I can almost hear his voice behind mine, pushing me to say what needs to be said, not what is convenient. 

It’s as if I’ve inherited not just his courage, but also his sense of responsibility to truth. 

So when my friend said, “You finally found your voice,” I realised it wasn’t so much about me discovering something new. It was about me growing into something I’ve always carried. My father’s example lives in me, and every time I speak my mind, I honour him.