Alana Shereen: Unmasked

alana-shereen-unmaskedI have silenced my own roar. I have made my voice palatable, quiet, kind, admired even. I have done this to myself out of shame, out of too muchness, out of a desire to be liked.

I’ve learned valuable skills in the silencing: how to listen, to reflect, to see what is good and holy in everyone. I have learned to rock the boat gently and kick ass with a soft slipper.

I have learned to hold boundaries firmly and without raising my voice.

I have become someone I am proud of and I have forgotten the sound of my roar.

Roaring feels dangerous to me. It feels angry, wild, loose, creative. We roar when we give birth, when we fight, when we orgasm, when we shatter into pieces.

We roar when there is nothing else we can do.

I haven’t felt like roaring in a long time but I feel it now. It sits in my belly and begins to squirm as I read tweet after tweet after tweet where women share their sexual assault stories. Its fire rises like bile when I hear justifications like “boys will be boys”. It sucks the air out of my lungs in preparation for a battle-worthy inhale as I watch fingers point, accusations fly, voices chant, raised in fear and hatred.

I am frightened by the intensity of the roar that is coming. It feels like it could burn down buildings, relationships, my world.

And then the roar sticks in my throat. Tears come instead. Beneath the anger there is so much pain. There is a little girl who didn’t know how to say no because she didn’t know what silence was saying yes to. There is a tall, curvy teenager who downplayed her brains and abilities for fear of being disliked. There is a young woman who said yes over and over and over again to feeling violated when all she wanted was to be adored.

And now there is me, tear stained, unmasked. The fire is still there, the roar wants to be heard but it’s not scary anymore. It feels grounded, powerful, wise – like a mother lion teaching her cubs to behave. Her paw is huge but her nails aren’t extended. The danger is gone.

My roar is a fire in my belly, urging me to take action. My roar is the love I have for my child, my husband, my friends, for humanity (even when I despair). My roar is the change I want to make tangible in the world.

It needs room to breathe, to settle, to erupt.  It’s ready to create, to get messy and a little uncomfortable.

My roar is ready to be heard.


alana_shereenAlana Sheeren is a writer, intuitive life coach and energy wrangler. She combines her training as a therapist and her intuitive abilities with powerful energy clearing techniques to help her clients create profound and lasting change in their lives. She also hosts the popular Create Your Magical Life podcast.

When she’s not working you can find her taking pictures of beach sunsets, practicing Kundalini yoga or dancing in the kitchen with her husband and daughter. Find Alana online at


Poet, Promptress, and Coach providing fierce encouragement for writing + life and gentle creative guidance for writers all over the world.

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