Why losing my voice was the best thing to happen to me as a singer!
- Abbi-Kaye Ellison
- Apr 9
- 6 min read
Updated: 21 hours ago
Nearly a decade into my professional singing career, I feel it's finally time discuss something that still seems to be a bit of a taboo subject, especially in the music industry: vocal injury.
This isn’t a sob story. It’s a cautionary tale, a confession of my own naivety, and ultimately, an honest account I hope might offer insight, comfort, and maybe even inspiration to others who find themselves in similar situations. (It happens to more people thank you think!).
Disclaimer: this piece includes some vocal geek-speak, a few slightly gruesomely cool medical images of my voice, and the word nodule will be used more times than anyone would like. But if you're a singer, speaker, someone who just loves to use their voice, or just curious about my particular journey and throat innards...read on.
The Dream vs The Reality Check
Aside from a brief phase where I dreamed of being a badass female punk rock drummer, I’ve always wanted to be a singer. I threw myself into singing lessons and amateur dramatics throughout my teens and eventually took the university route with one clear goal: to become a professional singer.
I arrived at university as a confident Mezzo-Soprano (mid-high range voice) with a solid musical foundation and a sparkly “Disney Princess” sound. I truly believed I’d breeze through my training, relying on my natural ability. But talent can only take you so far and it didn’t take long for reality to hit hard. In my second year of training I developed every singer's worst nightmare: nodules.
Show Us Your Nodules (a phrase mockingly used during my University years to hide my embarrassment!).
For those unfamiliar, first of all the "voice box" is referred to as the Larynx and the Layrnx is made up of vocal folds which vibrate together to create sounds. Vocal nodules are callous-like growths that form on the vocal folds, usually due to vocal strain, trauma, overuse, or poor technique. Think of them as the blisters of the vocal world. Painless and benign, yes, but deeply disruptive. They affect tone, stamina, and in my case, completely wiped out my mid-range. I sounded less like a Disney heroine (unless we want to count mute Ariel) and more like Marge Simpson after a hen do in Blackpool. (Where I studied). The nodules are the teeny tiny white spots!
As nodules can be sneaky and creepily develop over time, it took around 3 months to get a diagnosis. They were initially thought to be allergies or infection. And after a rather invasive scope that goes up the nose and to the back of the throat, they were finally diagnosed. But unlike others who face more severe damage, I was “lucky.” My nodules were still in the early stages. “Baby nodes,” I decided to coin them. Not severe enough for surgery, but serious enough to put my vocal ambitions and confidence in the gutter.
For Shame!
There’s a strange shame that surrounds vocal injuries, particularly for singers. It feels like it’s your fault. And in a way, it was. My nodules were a result of bad technique, vocal fatigue, stress, the enjoyment and the adjustment of my drama school style uni lifestyle. Which yes, I was fully responsible for. But in hindsight I'm very aware now that my body doesn't deal the best with said "stress". My peers could party as I would and their voice's would be fine. In hindsight, I've learned that there is a level of trauma tolerance and general day to day stress that my voice and body can with-hold. And during this particular time, I apparently reached my limits.
The shame in association to my injury turned which I often covered up with sarcasm and jokes. Deep down turned into guilt, and the guilt turned into a toxic cycle: the more I worried, the more tension I held. And the more tension I held, the worse things got. My self-worth and future career as a singer, something I’d built my entire identity around, was suddenly in question.
Plot Twist...
(Which might not be too surprising given the title of this post): Losing my voice was actually one of the best things that ever happened to me.
Why? Because those nodules led me to discover my love and skills for jazz singing!
With only my lower vocal range intact at the time and performance assessments looming, I began exploring songs written for lower female voices and even male jazz standards. This led me to the greats: Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland. Which I think, I have always been destined to sing. I’ve always loved vintage music and style since childhood, but this was the moment when jazz became part of my signature singing style. Ella’s version of They Can’t Take That Away From Me quite literally became my over-sung beacon of hope!
I wasn't ready to sing for money just yet, but for the first time in a long time, I loved singing again.
Stripped of my vocal “superpower,” I was also forced to lean heavily into the other elements of my training: acting, music theory, I even wrote my dissertation about dance? A shocker to many. And this resulted in me improving tenfold in all of those other subjects, Through this period of my training, I had to ask myself, "Who am I without my voice? What if I never got it back? Who would I be, what direction do I go in now?". It was humbling and terrifying. But it in turn, gave me a deeper appreciation for every musical milestone I made along the way. It also taught me resilience, and that lesson alone has served me more times than I can count in my career.
Post- Baby Nodes
I consider myself incredibly lucky that this all happened during my training years, not when I was reliant on gigs to pay the bills. I had the space to recover, rebuild, and re-learn. And I really did learn.
Going back to basics, with my saint of our course singing teacher, we started from the ground up with Estill Vocal Training. To which I've gained an in-depth technical understanding of my voice. I now know how to spot fatigue, how to manage stress, and most importantly, how to sing with healthy, sustainable technique. It's a level of self-awareness I might never have reached if I hadn't been forced to stop and start again.
From the first signs of trouble in late 2014 to my final clear scope in 2016, it was a long, slow journey, which required a lot of patience. Healing took nearly two years and that was just to clear them. Rebuilding my voice back to strength like the muscle it is, continued further. But despite what the industry might suggest, a thriving career followed with credits such as singing for cruise ships, hotels, events and of course for my fabulous wedding couples!
Having faced what life could have looked like without my voice, I’ve developed a deep sense of gratitude for my career, one that not every singer can resonate with. (That’s not to say I don’t still love a pint, good party or scream my heart out at live gigs often). But these days, it all comes with a lot more awareness and respect for my vocal limits.
I care about my vocal health more than I ever did before, and honestly? I’d say my voice is now stronger, healthier, and more powerful than it ever was before my injury. (She's still working on nailing Defying Gravity though).
So really, instead of sobbing over the whole thing, I should probably be thanking those baby nodules. For making me the singer I am today!
If you’re a singer struggling with vocal issues, know this: you're not alone. Here's a small list of a few legendary singers who have also had to deal with vocal injury and have been my own personal inspirations.
Michael Buble
Adele
Shania Twain
Bjork
Steve Tyler
Sam Smith
Elton John
And we know how it turned out for them!
P.S. While I’m not a vocal health professional, I’m always happy to chat with other singers, whether you’re after some practical vocal health tips or a bit of information or support from someone who has been in the trenches, consider me an open book!
All the best, Abbi-Kaye (Viva la Vintage)
For more blogs posts about my career as a full time singer or for wedding planning and inspiration advice:
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