Or going on auto-rap, as my brothers call it.

It’s the thing that happens when I start talking… and don’t really stop.

I grew up with three brothers, so the fact that I was the talkative one feels almost statistically impressive. 😂

These days, I’m best known as that mom at the school run — the one other moms probably brace themselves for at drop-off. I arrive intending to say hello and somehow end up giving an enthusiastic TED Talk.

But here’s the thing: it’s not just the school run.

It happens in client meetings.

In peer conversations.

Anywhere there are interesting people and a whiff of real curiosity and conversation.

I often feel the need to stretch my thoughts — especially when there’s room for exploration, humour, or reflection. When my mind finally senses oxygen, it moves. Quickly. Verbally. With enthusiasm. 😬

For a long time, I thought this was something to manage or mute.

Be less.

Talk less.

Take up less space.

But I don’t think that’s actually the problem.

Most of my days — like many people’s — are spent in compression. Logistics. Responsibility. Regulation. Caretaking. Conversations about children, work, finances, schedules. Important things, yes… but rarely spacious ones.

So when an adult-to-adult conversation opens up — one that allows curiosity, nuance, or shared meaning — my nervous system does what any deprived system does. It reaches for it. (Both hands clawing 🤪)

That isn’t a lack of social awareness.

It isn’t attention-seeking.

It’s a thinking, reflective mind finally being allowed to move.

Through the reflections of a fellow therapist, something important landed for me: personal growth work isn’t about fitting in, shaming ourselves, trying to be cool, or criticising how we show up. It’s choosing curiosity over mockery, conversation over shutdown, and presence over defensiveness — with ourselves and with each other.

Not every space needs depth.

Not every person needs to engage.

But no one needs to be embarrassed for being alive and expressive.

And maybe this is the real reframe:

You don’t need less voice.

You just need more places where your voice belongs.