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The Architecture of a Voice: Why Your Voice Matters Even When You Stammer
- Hariette Nuestro
- 3 days ago
- 7 min read
There are moments when the room goes quiet, the conversation starts to feel awkward, and you feel this urge to entertain everyone just to avoid the silence. You feel the pressure of finding the “right” words, but at the same time you overthink whether what you’re about to say will be taken positively or offensively.
You have a thought, a feeling, a truth — and yet, as you open your mouth, everything jams. The idea that was so alive in your head suddenly feels far away. The vocabulary disappears. Your throat tightens. You smile, nod, say something safe… and later, replay the scene in your mind, thinking, “I wish I said what I really meant.”
For a long time, I thought this was just a personal flaw: I am the founder of a wellness center, and yet I stammer, mentally block, and struggle to speak spontaneously. On paper, that sounds like a contradiction. You’re “supposed” to be a thought leader, right? Someone who can walk into a room and effortlessly string together stories, facts, and metaphors.
But the more I sat with it, the more I realized: this is not just my story. This is a pattern many of us quietly carry — especially deep thinkers, bilingual souls, and those who grew up in a culture that can be quick to judge how you speak.
And maybe, this is exactly where the conversation about energy centers needs to begin.
When the brain is busy and the mouth is scared
If you are constantly juggling English, Tagalog, Taglish; if you hold complex ideas about spirituality, business, emotions, energy; if you grew up hearing comments like “ang bakya mag-English,” “nag-iinarte ka,” or feeling that one wrong sentence can cost you credibility — then your nervous system is not neutral when you speak.
Inside, the brain is doing an intricate dance: switching languages, editing, predicting judgment, trying to keep you “safe.” Outside, it just looks like a pause… a stutter… a blank.
It is tempting to translate that moment as, “I’m not smart enough,” “I’m not leader material.” But history is full of examples that contradict this. The ancient Greek orator Demosthenes was said to have a speech impediment and yet became one of the most powerful public speakers of his time, not by erasing his difficulty, but by committing to his own way of working with it.
Stammering is not the opposite of intelligence.
Mental block is not the opposite of leadership.
They are signals. They are symptoms. They are invitations to look deeper.
The irony of running a wellness space and feeling imperfect
Here’s where the irony gets personal.
I run a wellness center that speaks about upgrading four layers of the self — physical, emotional, mental, energetic. I sit in meetings with doctors, coaches, brand managers, corporate teams. I facilitate, negotiate, align.
And yet, in many of those spaces, I don’t feel like the “ideal” spokesperson. My mouth trips. My mind goes blank in English. Even in Tagalog, the depth of what I want to say does not always survive the journey into words.
At first, this felt like a failure: “How can I represent GAYA if I don’t speak like a polished motivational speaker?”
But slowly, a different perspective emerged:
Maybe the point of GAYA is not to put perfectly eloquent humans on a pedestal.
Maybe the point is to build a system and a community where healing happens through a shared field — a collective consciousness — rather than a single flawless voice.
In that sense, my imperfection is not a disqualifier. It’s part of the case study.
Beyond words: many ways a soul speaks
At the same time, another layer opened up in my own practice. Through my work with Seraphim Blueprint and energy work, I began to notice I could “hear” or perceive truths in ways that were not strictly verbal — through feelings, images, subtle knowing.
Call it higher self, intuition, guides, interdimensional beings, fairies, Pleiadians — language will always struggle to capture it. What matters here is this: much of that communication arrives without sentences. It arrives as energy, as resonance, and only later gets translated into words.
It made me consider something simple but radical:
Maybe not all of us were sent here to Earth to express primarily through talking.
Some people speak best through architecture, painting, filmmaking, choreography, coding, holding space. Filipinos, as a nation, have always been fluent in non-verbal protest and praise — singing in unison during rallies, creating murals and placards to express what cannot be squeezed into a neat speech.
There are many mediums of communication, and conversation is just one of them.
A gentle doorway into chakras
This is where I’d like to introduce a framework we use quietly in the background at GAYA: energy centers, often called chakras.
Think of chakras not as something mystical you must blindly believe in, but as a map of how different types of experiences live in the body. In many traditions, these centers are imagined along the spine, from the base up to the crown, each linked to certain themes in our lives: survival, creativity, power, love, expression, intuition, connection.
You don’t need incense or mantras to see the logic: when you are stressed about money, your stomach tightens; when your heart is broken, your chest feels heavy; when you’re scared to speak, your throat closes. The language of chakras simply gives us a way to organize these patterns.
For this conversation, one center matters most: the throat.
The throat chakra: where truth meets air
The throat chakra is often described as the center of:
voice
truth
self-expression
the space where inner reality meets outer sound
Developmentally, this isn’t only shaped on a yoga mat. It is being written from childhood:
Were you allowed to ask “why”?
Were you listened to, or shut down?
Were your tears met with comfort, or with “tigilan mo ’yan”?
Were you encouraged to share opinions, or rewarded for being quiet and “good”?
Over time, these experiences build beliefs: “My voice is dangerous,” “My opinion doesn’t matter,” “I am lovable when I am silent,” “If I speak, I might be shamed or rejected.” Those beliefs don’t just live in the mind; they lodge in the body — especially around the throat.
So in that boardroom, Zoom call, or family dinner, when you suddenly choke or blank out, it’s not always because you “don’t know what to say.” It might be because an older part of you has learned that speaking is unsafe.
The throat closes to protect you. The energy freezes. The words stay trapped in the space between thoughts and sound.
It’s not about digging forever into trauma
Talking about this doesn’t mean we all need to live in our wounds. The goal is not to camp in the past, but to acknowledge what’s there so we can rise above it.
Sometimes the work looks practical and structured: sessions with a psychotherapist, guidance from a life coach, support from a speech therapist. Sometimes it looks artistic: painting what you can’t say, dancing out frustration, writing letters you never send. Sometimes it is explicitly energetic: seeing an energy healer, lying on a table with needles carefully placed by an acupuncturist, receiving sound therapy aimed around the neck and chest.
And sometimes it’s as simple — and as brave — as telling someone, “I need a moment to find my words,” instead of pretending you’re fine while you disappear inside.
In all of these, the intention is the same: to slowly send a new message to the body and the throat:
“It is safer now.
You are allowed to exist in sound.
Your truth is welcome here.”
Doing our work, letting something Higher do the rest
Spiritually, I hold on to a simple principle:
Our job is to do our work.
God will take care of the rest.
Our work is to practice self-love in action — not as a Pinterest quote, but as daily choices that tend to our four layers:
To nourish and strengthen the physical body that shakes when nervous.
To feel and honor the emotional waves instead of numbing them.
To watch and upgrade the mental stories we keep repeating about ourselves.
To clear and recalibrate the energetic patterns that keep certain reactions on loop.
When we give attention to all four, the throat naturally starts to relax. We don’t suddenly become perfect speakers; we simply become more honest ones.
If you’ve ever felt voiceless
If you’ve ever:
swallowed your opinion to keep the peace,
walked away from a conversation with a sore throat and a heavy chest,
or watched others speak with ease and wondered if your voice matters at all,
I hope this lands gently where it needs to.
You are not behind just because you don’t talk fast.
You are not less wise because you stammer.
You are not less spiritual because you mentally block in English.
Your voice is not only in your mouth; it is in your presence, your questions, your art, your boundaries, your yes, your no.
GAYA was never meant to be a showroom of perfectly healed people.
It was always meant to be a living blueprint — a space where imperfect humans can experiment with new ways of being, loving, and expressing, together.
Clearing the throat chakra doesn’t happen in one breath. But every time you choose to honor what you feel, every time you move your body, write your truth, sing off-key, ask for help, or simply try again… something in that energy center opens, even just a little.
And sometimes, a little is enough to let one more true word out into the world.
With love,
Hariette
Founder, GAYA Hybrid Wellness Hub
