I always knew I had it in me to run a successful business, but there was a pesky little voice in my head holding me back. Actually, that little voice wasn’t just in my head. You see, all my life I’ve had a little voice. Really little. Like, 8 years old little.
In general, it doesn’t bother me. It has its advantages; I could work in cartoons, or on some kind of dodgy phone sex line; the take-away delivery guys knows it’s me when I ring up; I get what I want when I complain about something and, of course, I’m awesome at swearing!
But, professionally, it’s been a bit of a problem. Over the years, I’ve been sent off to all kinds of elocution lessons to help me channel my inner Margaret Thatcher and get some gravelly gravitas. Talk about giving a girl a complex.
This is my story - in my own voice - of how I became the voice for little voices.