If you can't belt, suspender.

As I was playing and singing through my 15-year-old Miss Saigon music book (full of songs that are typically big belter numbers) while home for the holidays, I was surprised when my dad, sitting on the couch a few feet away the whole time, gave me an impromptu compliment, telling me I sounded great.  After a couple beats of open-mouthed disbelief, I replied that I would never sing anything in that register in a musical theater audition.  Equally surprised, and with his own two seconds of open-mouthed disbelief, he asked why not.  I explained that I don't really have a chest voice; everything I sing is in head voice or mix, and those types of songs are meant to be belted.

"I can't belt," I said.

He looked at me with a perplexed "so what?" expression on his face and said, "Yeah.... ?? .... So if you can't belt, suspender."

And that is my new motto.