Voice Within Silence

I Couldn’t Explain Then, But I Understand Now: What My Parents Didn’t Know About My Life as a CI User As a cochlear implant user who grew up navigating an often misunderstood world of sound, I wrote this to help parents and others see the parts we often can’t explain as children. When I was a little girl, I couldn’t explain what I was feeling. I didn't have the words then. I couldn’t explain why I kept saying “huh?” or “I didn’t hear you.” I couldn’t explain why I looked blank, why I didn’t respond, or why I got tired so easily in noisy places. My parents, concerned, suddenly took me to an audiologist to check if there were any problems. I could hear, but I didn't know how to explain my struggles and the barriers I faced, because I didn't know what natural hearing was like. But as I grew up, through countless conversations with friends and dedicated research into the science behind my experiences, I finally began to understand. And I wish my parents knew these things earlie...

 The Sounds That Still Escape Me: A Symphony of Silence and Whispers 1. A Beautiful Gift, with Quiet Gaps My cochlear implant has brought a world of sound back to me - a rebirth of auditory experience I once only imagined. From the rustle of leaves to the rhythm of footsteps, it opened a door to connection, learning, and independence. But sound, as I’ve come to learn, isn’t just about hearing, it’s about understanding. And even after years of learning to listen again, there are sounds that continue to slip through the cracks. This isn’t a complaint. It’s a quiet truth, the kind that lives between gratitude and reality. 2. The Elusive Sounds: Moments That Made Me Notice Whispers Whispers are like shadows in the world of sound, soft, fleeting, and nearly impossible to catch. Without lip-reading or context, they're almost always lost on me. I remember a time when a classmate leaned in during a class time, mouthing something in a whisper. I froze, not knowing if she was asking for help...

Where Are You Really From?" – The Unheard Questions of a CI User "Are you Sri Lankan? Malaysian? Telugu? Kannada? Malayalam?" These are just some of the questions I get, almost daily, simply by the sound of my voice. As a Cochlear Implant (CI) user from Tamil Nadu, India, born deaf and implanted at age five, my journey with sound and speech has been anything but ordinary. My family is instantly recognized as Tamil, yet strangers often perceive my speech as 'unplaceable,' leading to this wide range of curious questions about my origin. This constant questioning highlights a profound truth: many people simply don't know what it's like to be a CI user, or why our voices can sound different. They don't realize the intricate dance between technology, brain adaptation, and language that shapes our voices. They don't see the effort behind every word, the unique way our brains learn to interpret sound through a device, or how a rich multilingual backgr...

 🎧 Why I Wear My Sound Processor for 15 Hours a Day Even When It Hurts, It Helps Me Grow I’m not a scientist or a speech therapist. I’m just someone who wears my sound processor from the moment I wake up until just before going to bed. That’s around 15 hours a day. Some people ask me why. Some of my deaf friends wonder how I manage. And some don’t wear theirs much at all. They told me: “It gives me a headache.” “It’s too loud.” “I get tired.” I understand them. I truly do. Even I get tired sometimes. The noise, the overstimulation, the heaviness, it’s not always easy. But then I look back. To when I started wearing it. To how much I struggled with speech. To how confused I felt when I couldn’t understand people. And I realize: Wearing it is not just about hearing. It’s about training the brain. Pain doesn’t stop me. It shapes me. 🔁 What I Noticed and What I Learned Some of my friends who wear their device only sometimes, Their speech isn’t as clear. They don’t always...

 🎧 From Hiding to Healing: The Day I Wore My Device Like Jewelry There was a time in my life when mirrors made me anxious. I would stare at my reflection, tilt my head side to side, and ask myself the same silent question over and over again: “Why can’t I just look… normal?” My sound processor sat behind my ear like a badge I never asked for. It was big, visible, and impossible to hide. It was a part of me, yet I wanted to make it disappear. So, I tried everything. I changed my hairstyles. I cut my hair short. I even draped shawls over my head when I went out. Not because I was cold, but because I was scared. Scared of the stares. Scared of the whispers. Scared of the questions. And the questions came like clockwork. “Is that a Bluetooth device?” “Are you listening to music?” “Wait… what’s that thing on your ear?” Every outing felt like a performance I didn’t audition for. I wasn’t tired of wearing my device. I was tired of explaining it. Tired of shrinking myself. ...

 🔋 Living on Charge: The Untold Truth of Battery Management You charge your phone. I charge my ears. But my battery isn’t just about convenience. It’s about whether I can hear my professor, my colleague, or my surroundings when I travel alone. It’s about connection, confidence and sometimes, survival. I use a cochlear implant sound processor. It helps me hear, but it runs on rechargeable batteries. Each one lasts around 12 hours but managing that battery is nothing like charging a phone. I have two batteries. When one dies, I switch to the other. But I can’t recharge it whenever I want, if I charge it at 50%, the battery weakens over time. So I wait until it’s completely drained. I plan my hours like a schedule class from 8:30AM to 3:30PM, rehearsal from 5 to 7, travel after that... will the battery last? Charging takes 3–4 hours. But here’s the tricky part: If the battery blinks during charging, I have to reset it and start the 4-hour timer again. Sometimes it happ...