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Voice Training - Blog Posts
I wanna start voice training but I hate talking even more than my voice
I love questioning who I am constantly, and then think something and google “is it cis to be scared not having a feminine voice?” And still question what I am. I’m either dense or terrified of something.
Trying to follow along with MtF voice tutorials, but just quietly enough as to prevent anyone from hearing me.
cw: voice dysphoria
Voice training is great and it has done wonders for me, but I cannot describe to you how much I want that sound that happens when cis women try to make their voice deeper but their range isn't low enough.
Singing in the baritone range feels nice enough for similar reasons to thus, but I would gladly give up that part of my range if I could just have a voice that makes me happy.
Mildly related: I was a tenor in choir back in high school, but it never felt high enough. I found myself getting jealous of countertenors and castratos, all because I couldn't recognize that I was experiencing gender dysphoria.
1. Very good fem voice
2. I dont þink your dad should've acted like ðat to you. Ðose are serious þreats to make, and he shouldn't have given you the ultimatim of "go to therapy or have divorced parents."
3. We are here to support you if you need, and remember to be strong!
Femme voice test + Mad World cover + General vent (vent below ðe read more)
WHY ÐE FUCK DID I DO ÐAT?! for context: we have to go to a psychologist on þursdays, but ðis week, we got a bit tired from a test at school and didn't wanna go to ðat psychologist, but ðat pushed our dad over ðe edge and he þreatened to divorce our mom or someþing. i got a bit angry too, but now ðat i've calmed down, have a cover of Mad World ðat i recorded on our phone a few minutes ago which also doubles as a femme voice test.
but why did i act like ðat?!
Malapropism
Recently my singing instructor has had me practicing runs (i.e. moving up and down notes within a single sung word). It's a lot of fun, and especially welcome given that it allows me to practice while working around the lingering effects of the cold I caught six months ago.
My instructor is all about helping me understand precisely which parts of my vocal system I'm engaging at any particular time; and that end she asked me: "When you are singing this run, where do you feel it?"
"Kind of... at the back of my throat?" I answered.
"Ah, okay. So you feel it in your..." - and I saw the gears whirring - "...vulva"?
At that point our eyes met; and we both burst into laughter.
"Uvula! I meant uvula!" she yelled.
Now my instructor can't wait to share this particular mix-up with her whole family; and I get to tell people that there are apparently even more esoteric singing techniques than I was originally aware!
Recital
Eight weeks ago I had my first singing recital. As I have previously documented, I have been working uphill against the effects of a past cold; which have interfered heavily in my ability to sing. I then proceeding to catch yet another cold, which incited a flare-up of symptoms.
On the other side - I am, factually-speaking, a baritone; trying to sing like an alto. It's challenging in the extreme.
Every day of the week, any time the opportunity has presented itself, I've been practicing. I didn't feel confident per se; but I was a lot better of for doing so than where I started.
I was singing a version of "You Are My Sunshine", which is a song I learned from my spouse and one that holds great personal significance. There are three verses; the last of which contains a particularly high note. This had been the focus of much of my practice.
We arrived, my spouse and I, at the venue - a local church. My instructor was there to meet me, along with two teenage students - one obviously rather shy; the other bubbly. We did some warm-up exercises in a side room and wished each other good luck.
the student body of my music school is mostly kids; and so the recital was a fairly low-stakes affair - lots of beginners, stumbling along as best as they could. The audience of friends and family members were all very polite, and applauded each performer in turn.
Shy Girl acquitted herself well. Bubbly Girl rendered "Hallelujah"; spectacularly so. And then it was my turn.
There is anecdotal evidence suggesting that many MtF individuals experience issues processing their emotions; and that HRT resolves this problem.
This was certainly the case for me. An interesting offshoot of this is, in my prior life, I suffered little to no anxiety when it came to public speaking. The idea of stage fright was foreign to me.
I have spoken previously about a coming-out presentation I gave at my workplace. I did not mention how incredibly and uncharacteristically nervous I was at the time.
Likewise, I found my heart racing as I stepped onto the stage. I tried to slow my breathing, to no avail. My instructor began cued me in on the piano; and I began to sing. The first verse went well; the second was okay. The third, I hit the high note; but silently cursed as I forgot to breathe and effectively ran out of air moving into the next line.
The audience stared back, and there was a pause; and then they very politely clapped. It felt performative.
I returned to my seat, and tried desperately to hold back tears as the last few performers finished out their own pieces. The recital ended; we talked to my instructor for a few moments, and one of the staff told me "You did great!" on the way out.
We went home. I immediately went to the bedroom, closed the door, and sat in the void between the wall and bed that serves as my nest of safety. Despite my better judgement, I looked up the show's live stream and fast-forwarded to my song.
It was heartbreaking. My barrelled torso and broad shoulders were bursting out of my flower-pattern dress; my feet were planted far too firmly apart. I could hear the chest resonance in my voice and worst of all, the high note was wildly off-key.
I didn't see Lauren. I saw Lawrence.
I cried for an hour; big, heaving, sobs. And then I called my friend and talked to her for a while. It helped; but the damage was done.
There was a singing lesson scheduled the following week, with a very nice substitute. I explained that I wasn't able to sing, and played the piano instead. She was kind. Afterwards I spoke with the school's owner, and asked him to take down the recording of the show.
I'm glad that I participated in the recital. I am. I put myself out there for all the world to see, despite the overwhelming terror of doing so. I might not be the singer I want to be, and I might not pass to the extent I wish I did; but no-one can doubt my courage.
There is a positive coda in all of this. When I did chance to reconnect with my instructor again, she had a message to convey from bubbly girl. She wanted to ask the "Sunshine Girl" where she had found her beautiful dress.
Cold: addendum 2
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the phlegm from the damned cold I had six weeks ago is still present and still interfering in my singing practice. And now there’s a new issue: when I hit that A4 / B4 danger zone, now my voice cracks! I thought the weird Chewbacca noise was bad...
There’s not much to do but persist; but it feels like a significant portion of my lessons to date have consisted of trying to work around this issue and it’s really, really beginning to wear on me!
Cold: addendum 1
I still have a cold. I'm still trying to practice my singing and it's still being impinged upon because of my symptoms.
Currently I have some phlegm in my throat; and it's fine and well until I get up to A4 and then it starts to resonate, and I make the most ungodly noise that sounds not entirely unlike Chewbacca trilling.
It just so happens that I'm trying to practice in the region of A4 / B4; so to say that this is inconvenient would be an understatement. Likewise, there isn't really a solution - clearing my throat might help for a hot second, but the problem very quickly reasserts itself.
I know I just need to be patient and wait for this to clear but... I don't want to! I just want to sing...
Sandwich
I have friends that are LGBT and (for reasons that are fairly obvious) refuse to eat at Chick-fil-A. However, they have family that continue to do so; and there's been an ongoing conversation on how said friends might convince said family to desist.
During that discussion, the subject of alternatives came up; and how the competing Popeye's chain serves a superior fried chicken sandwich. I wouldn't know - I've never eaten at Popeye's - but there's one in the area and I was exhorted to try it out.
That's exactly what I did - and what I can say is:
I'm not a huge fan of drive-through, but at least my voice training must be working because I got a "Will that be all, ma'am?"... That made my day!
It was a pretty good sandwich! Definitely a viable alternative to Chick-fil-A's; and also doesn't come tinged with the baggage of homophobia.
Would definitely go again!
Holding out
During last week's singing lesson, Chelsea - my instructor - proposed that I try my hand at the classic Can't Help Falling In Love. This represents an interesting challenge, as the chorus reaches all the way up to B4 (and my current range quickly falters at around G4 and above).
I really wanted to nail this, so I made a point of practicing extensively every day this week. Unfortunately it became quickly apparent that the persistent cold I've been dealing with has now taken up residence in my chest; and that this was severely hampering my efforts.
Suffice to say, I was more than a little trepidatious as to how today's lesson would go!
At one point we started working on switching from chest voice to head voice (a process whereby you close certain vocal muscles, pitching the voice up). I generally struggle to do this on command, but there is one specific line in one specific song where it I find it easy (and indeed, had started to switch into head voice long before I even knew that was a thing).
I was demonstrating this and Chelsea paused: "You know that", (checks reference note), "...You just hit a C4, right? That's higher than what we've been working on. You've been holding out on me!"
...And I was just filled with the most girlish sense of glee!
(Evidently I need not have worried.)
Due to scheduling, my next lesson will be in a little over a week and a half; so let's see if I can't spend the intervening time nailing those high notes!
Singing
An interesting part of the transition process is that it represents not only a kind of second, physical adolescence; but also a psychological one. You are afforded the opportunity to review your identity; cast aside the parts that are no longer relevant; and replace them with entirely new and different ones.
One manifestation of this phenomenon is that I continue to discover interests - some new, some old but hidden. Like singing.
Seven months or so into my new life, and I was on my way to see IRIS perform live in Philadelphia (an event that really deserves it’s own post). This made for an eight-hour drive; so I loaded up the USB drive in my car with music - including their new album - and set off.
Cruising through the hills of Pennsylvania, I found myself listening to the same two tracks; and in a first, I began singing along. (I am told that my starting range is very similar to that of IRIS front-man Reagan Jones, which is perhaps where part of the appeal lies.)
This went on to become a routine - whenever commuting, I would fire up the same two songs and sing along. Eventually I incorporated a number of other songs into the repertoire; in particular, Unknown, from Awakening.
(This is a song that has a great deal of personal meaning to me: from the day of release onward, it invoked an emotional response that I could not identify but wanted to experience again and again. In hindsight, it’s obvious: it had become an expression of my inner gender war.)
The song features some comparatively high notes that are simply outside of my current range; and while a year of offhand practice has brought me closer to them by sheer dint of brute force effort, they are still unattainable. Further progress would require professional intervention.
This being the case, I had my first singing lesson yesterday. I was incredibly nervous beforehand; but Chelsea, my instructor, did a great job of making me feel comfortable and otherwise being terrifically encouraging.
(It’s also worth noting that I did elect to cover my transgender status, as knowledge that I have what are fundamentally male vocal cords is rather relevant to the subject at hand. Her response - “Congratulations!” - is to me a shining example of how people should react to such news!)
Although I was not planning on it, Unknown has become our first practice song; and Chelsea fully believes I can extend my range sufficiently to cover those higher notes and more. To say that I cannot wait for our next session is an understatement!
Unexpected voice training side-effect #2
When I got my new car, I was delighted to learn that it came with a hands-free voice assistant. You press a button, and then the scene plays out as follows:
Car: Beep boop. “How can I help you?” Me: “Play that one sad song. I know, I know. That’s the kind of day it is.” Car: “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand.” Me: “Play that one song.” Car: “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand.” Me: “Just cancel.” Car: “I’m sorry-” Me: “CANCEL!” Car: “Cancelling.” Beep boop.
See, as awesome as this feature is, it really struggles to understand anything I actually say.
Until I started using my girl voice.
Legitimately! I’m not sure if this is simply because it’s in a higher pitch now (and the microphone can pick it up better); or if it’s because my accent has been slipping (and the original training data was chiefly American). Whatever the case: it’s a a welcome and unexpected reward for the work I’m putting in!
Unexpected voice training side-effect #1
I’m losing my accent.
Developing a more feminine voice is not merely a case of raising your pitch (although this is a significant component). Women also use a specific vocabulary; elongate their vowels; and vary their overall tone more while speaking.
As I’ve attempted to replicate these qualities, I’ve used my wife’s voice as my model to aim for. As she is American however, I have also picked up elements of her accent in the process; causing my original accent to fade.
19 months into transition, it's a new year, I'm voice training every day in 2025 like I should have done last year
1 day down, 364 to go. Today was about 2.5 hours of chatting in a voice call while I played some video games, getting the muscles used to new positioning long term. Voice is still really rough, but it's an okay start.