Then something happened.
By fourth grade, I was a chubby, insecure, little girl who'd lost her smile. I still wanted to sing, but I didn't feel confident at all. What happened? Probably the same thing that might have happened to you. Someone important to me told me I couldn't do it, or shouldn't do it. I felt ashamed. There was something wrong with me. I was afraid. That was all it took.

I continued to try.
I never lost the desire to sing and perform, and over the years would occasionally muster up the courage. At 20, I joined the cast of Up With People, an international organization that used stage shows to share a message of unity and brotherhood. I remember my vocal audition. Still with blond hair and blue eyes, I was going to sing "Country Roads" by John Denver. I stood in front of the judges, one of whom had worked with Olivia Newton John, and was so frightened I couldn't utter a sound. I started, then stopped. I asked if I could sit down on the stage. My legs were shaking so badly I didn't trust myself to stay standing. They said yes, so I sat down and sang the song.

Must have done okay because I spent a year with them as a lead singer and dancer performing for hundreds of thousands of people on big and little stages all over this country. But I never thought I was good enough. Never. Most of the time, I thought I would pass out or throw up before I got on the stage.

I learned a lot about being on the stage, and a lot about life. When it came to stage fright, I gritted my teeth and white-knuckled it because I loved the show -- the message of love and brotherhood. It totally aligned with my own values and desire to make a difference. There was just nothing like looking out into the audience, radiating love and joy, and feeling it come right back to you.

After Up With People, I studied mass communications at ASU. I graduated, got married, and occasionally auditioned for musicals and took chorus parts. Still terrified. Still had to sit down on the stage. One director actually tried to comfort me because I was so frightened. And, he gave me the part.

By my early 30's, with a new baby on my hip, I'd had enough of this fear. I wanted my voice! I began vocal training and doing the personal and spiritual work I needed to do to heal. I spent the next 15 years performing regularly in a band and as a soloist. There were moments when I felt elated and fulfilled. But, I was still terrified most of the time. Afraid I just wasn't good enough. I would be laughed at. The shame was unbearable. I couldn't handle it, so I quit singing -- again.

Instead, I took up acting. I had no fear of acting, and had a lot of fun. I was told I was very good. It met my needs for creative expression and met other people's needs for entertainment. I was in a lead role in a  production for five years straight. The only reason I stopped acting in plays was because I was also working, raising a child as a single mother, and taking care of life. Plays are very demanding, and it was too much.

Professionally, after positions in public relations, community relations, marketing and nonprofit leadership, I trained to be a professional speaker, trainer and coach. I began sharing my information, wisdom and expertise on the stage, once again. I had to deal with some of those same stage fright issues -- those same insecurities -- but managed to move through them.

What I realized during this time was that the voice I was searching for was my "authentic voice" -- my truth. My life story had been all about finding and following my authentic voice -- to let go of the shame and experience the freedom to be who I am. Freeing my singing voice was a metaphor.

But what about the actual singing? That was still on the shelf, until five years ago, when I said, again, enough is enough.

Then, the breakthrough came.
I started singing again, slowly, going to karaoke (nobody really listens to you anyway) and singing at church. After a couple of years, I decided to create my one-woman show, Love Is Loud! This was a big stretch for me. I had performed in front of hundreds of thousands, millions if you include the Super Bowl Halftime Show and Indianapolis 500. I had spoken to hundreds at a time. But, taking the stage with a one-woman show I'd written -- this was a big leap.

I did my first show to a full house of friends and well-wishers. They loved it and so did I! I had a breakthrough. The debilitating stage fright was gone. I got a few butterflies, but that I could handle.

I cannot possibly describe to you the joy I felt. And the relief! Years of effort culminating in this victory over my own fears. I had finally released my fear that I wasn't good enough and claimed my place on the stage. I'd said adios to that voice in my head. I felt the love.