What Losing My Voice and Leaving Home Taught Me About Control, Fear, and Finding My Center

Nearly three weeks ago, I began having a sore throat that eventually led to something unexpected: I completely lost my voice.

For almost three weeks I could barely speak above a whisper. I had to type messages on my phone, write notes on paper, or text what I wanted to say. It was unsettling and disruptive in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

The first few days were the hardest. I had appointments scheduled, two coaching clients on my calendar, and videos I planned to record for my upcoming book launch. Suddenly, none of that was possible.

But something interesting happened during the second week.

Without the ability to talk much, I found myself slowing down. I spent more time writing, working quietly on book and script projects, and catching up on my reading list. The silence was unexpected, but it also brought a certain peace.

Then, on February 28th, that peace disappeared.

A regional crisis erupted in the Middle East involving several countries, including the region where my husband and I have been happily living for the past three and a half years. 

Out of respect for the region and the people who live there, I won’t go into the details of the events themselves.  I simply want to share what the experience taught me.

Like many other’s in the area, we began receiving alerts and instructions to shelter in place.

So there I was — still without my voice, uncertain about what might happen next, and trying to remain calm in a rapidly changing situation.

By the third week, the uncertainty made it difficult to focus on writing or work. Everything felt fluid and unpredictable.

When moments like that happen, I return to something I’ve practiced for many years — finding my center.

These are the same emotional regulation skills I teach many of my clients when they feel overwhelmed by relationship uncertainty, fear of rejection, or anxiety about the future.

When we feel out of control, the mind often races to questions like:

Why is this happening?
What if things get worse?
What do I do now?

Instead of spiraling, I went back to basics. I journaled when I could. I prayed. I meditated. I focused on healing my voice and maintaining peace in our home.

About eleven or twelve days into the regional crisis, something else unexpected happened.

Late one night we received an email and then a phone call. Because of the evolving situation, they offered assistance for citizens who wished to leave the region.

The message was simple: “This may be your only opportunity to go.”

Within hours we packed a bag and boarded a plane.

For three and a half years the Middle East had been our home. We had grown to love the safety, the culture, and the rhythm of life there. Suddenly we found ourselves traveling to a country we had never visited before.

I love travel — but I usually like to plan it.

I prefer responding thoughtfully to life rather than reacting under pressure. But in this moment, we had to make a decision quickly.

And sometimes life requires that.

Once we arrived in Europe, I found myself asking a question that many people ask when life suddenly shifts:

Now what?

In less than three weeks I had lost my voice, left my home, and stepped into complete uncertainty.

But a few days ago something shifted.

My nervous system finally began to settle. And I returned to the one thing that always grounds me: remembering who I am and what I am here to do.

Moments like these remind us how fluid and unpredictable life can be.

We often believe we have everything figured out — our plans, our relationships, our future. Then something unexpected disrupts everything.

Ironically, this is something many people experience in their relationships.

A breakup.
A betrayal.
A marriage that suddenly feels uncertain.
Or the fear of never finding the right partner.

Those moments can feel just as destabilizing.

But one of the most important lessons I’ve learned over the years is this:

We don’t control everything that happens in our lives.

What we do control is how we respond.

When emotions run high, I rely on a simple mental check-in that helps regulate the nervous system.

PAUSE

P – Pause
A – Acknowledge what you’re feeling
U – Understand where it shows up in your body
S – Slow your breathing and shoulders
E – Evaluate your options

These small steps allow us to move from panic to clarity.

The decision we make next may not be perfect — but it can be the best one available at the time.

These small steps allow us to move from panic to clarity.

The decision we make next may not be perfect — but it can be the best one available at the time.

Losing my voice, leaving home, and navigating uncertainty reminded me how fragile and fleeting our sense of control can be.

For much of my life I tried to control everything. After years of mistakes, heartbreak, and difficult lessons, I learned that control is often an illusion.

And interestingly, the fear of uncertainty is one of the biggest reasons people avoid relationships — or stay in the wrong ones.

Love requires vulnerability.
Life requires adaptability.

Sometimes the best thing we can do is reconnect with who we are, steady ourselves emotionally, and take the next step forward.

Right now that next step for me was simple:

To reconnect with all of you.