Finding My Voice

Music has always been a source of energy, inspiration, and introspection for me. It’s where I feel the most understood. I don’t really believe in favorites, but if I did, J. Cole would be on my short list. Kendrick Lamar is there. Chance the Rapper too. Artists who don’t just make songs, they document the moment. They tell their truth, even when it’s uncomfortable. Especially when it’s uncomfortable.

What I appreciate most is the vulnerability and the deep cultural insight they bring to their work. They use their voices to reflect the now and challenge us to grow beyond the societal barriers engineered to keep us stagnant. They don’t just rap about success, they interrogate it. They question the systems, the costs, the contradictions.

When I saw that J. Cole is dropping his new album, The Fall Off, it hit me deeper than just excitement. It felt personal. “Right on time,” I thought to myself when I saw the announcement.

Lately, I’ve been trying to find my voice as a social entrepreneur.

Honestly, it hasn’t been easy.

I’ve been struggling to write “engaging” blogs. Feeling lost and unmotivated trying to build a social media presence. Somewhere along the way, I fell into the trap of thinking I needed to create for an audience instead of creating for myself. No wonder I feel stuck. That approach just doesn’t work for me. If I can’t be real, I’d rather not be seen at all.

The truth is, I often allow other people’s expectations, real or imagined, to shape my next move. And most of the time, that leads to not moving at all. I assume people won’t understand my authenticity. I convince myself it’s bad for business. That being too honest, too nuanced, too me will cost me.

J. Cole reminds me of something I keep avoiding: my authenticity is my biggest asset.

Not my polish. Not my ability to fit into someone else’s framework of success. Not my willingness to dilute my perspective to make others comfortable. The very things I worry will push people away are the same things that give my work meaning.

As I look for my on-ramp into a cannabis industry that feels intentionally designed for people like me to fall off before ever really being on, I’m making a promise to myself: I’m going to do this authentically. No shrinking. No pretending. No character development, just me.

That’s the only real way forward.

Writing and sharing this is the beginning of me showing up more openly. Not perfectly but honestly.

And that feels like the right place to start.