Reclaiming Our Voices

As I sit here writing this, my voice is gone—a physical reminder of the energy I poured into advocating for my rights and those of my transgender siblings on this Transgender Day of Visibility. Each shout, each chant, each declaration of existence came from the depths of my being. And now, in the quiet aftermath, I feel both the weight of that effort and the immense gratitude for those who stood beside me.

I want to take a moment to thank Noco Safe Space and Common Ground People's Collective for their invaluable support in providing a safe space for us to march and protest. Their work reminds me that community is the backbone of every movement. I also want to acknowledge Splash Youth for the incredible events they organized for Transgender Visibility Week—if you haven’t heard of these organizations, I encourage you to take a moment to learn about their missions and how you can help support them.

This weekend was a powerful reminder that our voices are more than just sound. They are an extension of our breath, our energy, our truth. I used my voice this weekend to shout to the world that trans people are here to stay—whether people like it or not. I used my voice to tell my transgender siblings that we will not be silenced. I used my voice to honor all those who came before me, who fought this same fight with the same unwavering determination. And above all, I used my voice to spread love, because love will always outlast hate.

Now, in the stillness that follows, as I sit with the silence left behind by my lost voice, I am reminded of something profound: even in the absence of sound, our voices still hold power.

In yoga, vocalization isn’t just about speaking—it’s about expression in all its forms. It’s the steady rhythm of ujjayi breath that carries us through movement. It’s the mantras we chant, vibrating through our bodies with ancient wisdom. It’s the sigh of release as we surrender into stillness. When our words fail us, or when we’ve used them all up, our breath steps in to speak for us. And just as we cannot force our voice to return, we cannot force healing, change, or transformation. We must trust the process. We must allow ourselves to receive.

This week on the mat, we explore vocalization beyond words. How do we embody our truth when words escape us? How do we breathe through frustration when we feel unheard? Can we still communicate, still take up space, even in silence?

Whether through the resonance of breath, the vibration of sound, or the pure intention behind each movement, we will reclaim our voices together.

Join me this week as we explore what it means to express ourselves fully—on and off the mat.

With love and resilience,

Aza