“A person can drop dead even while singing. But that's no reason to stop singing.” ― Marty Rubin

The following post is about my journey to discover and love my own voice. I am in no way claiming that I think my voice is perfect or better than any one else. It is still a work in progress and probably will be for a long time.


Learning to love my voice has been a frustrating task. I have been singing since I was three, yet I have never fully appreciated or even liked the sound of my own voice. I will admit, there have been many times when I have given up and made a vow to never sing another note for as long as I live. For those who know me this may seem strange since, it seems, all I do is sing. However, I assure you that the road to developing my talent is buried beneath a river of my own tears.

Those who have studied voice understand what an incredibly personal thing it is. No two voices sound alike. There may be voices that sound similar, but ultimately each voice is unique. It has it's own color that makes it stand out from every other voice. This can be a blessing or a curse depending on how you look at it. Learning to sing is especially sensitive because unlike learning to play an instrument such as the piano or the saxophone, your body is the instrument. It isn't just about learning which keys correspond with the desired note to be played. It's about learning how to create the sound with the body you have been given as well as singing the correct pitches. If something goes wrong, it isn't because you accidentally hit a wrong note with your finger. It could be any number of problems that you need to diagnose and fix every time you sing. It takes an incredible amount of dedication, patience, and prayer. But what happens when you put in all the work, and you still don't like the sound you're creating?

I have spent many years struggling with that very question. My voice has never been perfect and it certainly hasn't been easy overcoming bad habits and learning proper technique. I have an incredible amount of passion for music and singing. I remember feeling so frustrated because I always felt like there was this incredible sound inside of me just waiting to be set free. I know that sounds cliche and cheesy, but it's true. I just felt like I should be able to open my mouth and create this wonderful, powerful sound and make it seem effortless. And for the longest time I would open my mouth and would crack or squeak. I would listen to my peers in high school and college and wish so much to sound like them. I began listening to singers such as Audra McDonald or Maria Callas and try relentlessly to imitate their sound. I realized that my voice was settling into a mezzo soprano and I struggled with that for a long time. There are so many wonderful qualities about a beautiful mezzo voice, but all I could hear was that I would never have the wonderful qualities of say, a lyric soprano. Is anyone else seeing the theme here?

Most of my life has been spent comparing myself to others. I know that I'm not alone in this. I think that everyone has struggled with this at some point in their life. It's really quite unfortunate. I spent so much time lamenting the fact that I didn't sound like so-and-so or that I wasn't as good as what's-her-face that I couldn't see the beauty I was creating. (Warning: The sentences that follow will contain an abnormal amount of self esteem and I would very much like you all not to confuse that with narcissism.) I put a lot of effort into trying to make my voice sound less classical so people would want to listen to me or attempting to make my voice sound like amazing singers who's voices I so very much wished I could have, that I nearly lost what made my voice special. This led to frustration and tears. I almost always ended up hating my voice more and even led to months where I wouldn't even look at music. It wasn't until I began to think about what I had to offer the world that I began to see my voice for the awesomeness that it is. I started taking voice lessons again and benefited greatly from a teacher who pointed out what made my voice special and helped me build on that. I began listening to singers whose voices were similar to my own voice type and began to recognize the beauty that I could create. I soaked in every bit of information I could about my voice classification. I listened to the breathtaking arias written for mezzo sopranos and spinto sopranos and began to become excited at the possibilities. When I stopped comparing myself to everyone else and started loving my voice for what it was I discovered it's beauty.

I will never sing like Sara Bareilles or Katy Perry. I will never belt out rousing musical theatre songs like Sutton Foster or perfectly imitate the amazingness that is Audra McDonald. I will never have the light sound and soaring high notes of a soprano like Anna Netrebko or Maria Callas. And that is ok because what I do have is amazing. I have the ability to sing my higher tones with depth and my lower tones with an incredible warmth. I have a rich, open sound. I have a passion and an incredible amount of emotions that allow me to perform in such a way that lets others feel the music. I have a big voice with a power behind it that even surprises me at times. No, I will never have the voice of all those famous singers. But what I have is mine and no one else in the world can create what I have. I have the voice of ShaRee Larsen. I have a voice I love.

"The secret of life, though, is to fall seven times and to get up eight times."

I have had trials in life. No more than any other person I would meet on the street on any ordinary day. Trials are, after all, part of our existence and all of us will experience them several times during our lives. They are never easy and while some are larger than others, one truth is always there no matter what the trial may be: all trials bring a level of pain with them that takes a significant amount of time to overcome. 

I know this may seem like a strange first post for a blog, but it ties in with my reasons for starting the blog. I wish in this post not to start a list of the different types of trials people go through. Nor do I wish to compose a lengthy article about every horrible thing that has ever happened to me specifically. I would rather focus on the aftermath. The moment where I finally make it through and the overall lesson I have learned from my experiences. 

I used to walk through life being constantly weighed down by not only the trials that I was experiencing at the moment, but every single bump in the road that I had gone through up to that moment. I hated them. I wished I had never had them. When I experience such horrible events in my life I tend to give up. I lose all desire to move forward and find a way to stop living life to the fullest. It's my way of preventing any other bad things from happening. It's also a great way to make myself miserable. Last year I found the trial to end all trials. I guess it wasn't so much one big trial as it was a series of trials that kept pushing me down the second I tried to get on my feet. After so many times I just kind of figured it would be less painful to stay down, play dead, and pray that it would be over soon. (Stick with me, I'll get to my point shortly. Yes, I do have a point.)

I don't know if I can pinpoint the exact moment I found the strength to get up..........again. I guess I'm not so worried about the "when" of it all. I'm more focused on the fact that it actually happened. Let's just say it happened somewhere between anguish and total ruin. At some point the hopeful part of my personality found a way to start fighting my negative mind. It found a way to remind me of all the good things I had done. It found a way to fight that voice telling me I was a monster. And most importantly, it reminded me of my dreams. It didn't happen overnight. It was a SLOW process that took many months, but I got up. I got up.

Since then, amazing things have happened to me that wouldn't have happened had I given up. I have rediscovered who I am and what makes me happy. I've found a way to enjoy life. I can smile again! Here is my point: I have had trials in life. I am sure there are many more to come. But I no longer hate them and wish they had never happened to me. They have made me who I am. My trials have, at times, made me a stronger person. Other times they have been a catalyst to make a course correction, leading me to greater things in life. My trials have given me the experience I need to help others through their trials. I am more empathetic and sympathetic to what others are going through. I now see my trials, hard as they may be, as a blessing. But only if I get up. 

I believe that Paulo Coelho, in his book The Alchemist, was right. The secret of life is to fall seven times and get up eight. It's ok to have difficult times. It's ok to fail. That is where we learn the most about ourselves. That is where we grow. The trick is to get up and keep trying.