Is Your Voice Your Soul?

From a conversation with a fellow writing major:

I am thinking back on all of my cortland college contemporaries.
Liz was fierce and biting to the world, a facade to hold her up while she crumbled on the inside.
Pat was outwardly resentful and destructive, disgusted at the realization of what the world around him was.
You were wistful, yet adventurous, a free spirit waiting to take off.
And in those voices of writing, I saw your souls.
Or what felt to be them.
For all I know, they were all facades, fictional voices meant to entertain a reader.
But still, it is how I remember you all.

A writer's "voice" is the most powerful facet of their being. Your voice affects every single thing you will ever write, as will it affect the perception of your readers. The irony is that your voice is something that naturally emanates from you. It's something that will always be uniquely you, no matter how you change the way you write.

It seems, then, that your voice is your soul. What better way to describe the soul than with the sentences in the above paragraph? But I'm not sure if I agree. As I told my friend, I do not know if the voices I heard were true reflections of the inner authors, or masks put on to make a good show.

Although I can recognize my voice, I cannot separate myself from it, so I don't know what it shows about me, which means I cannot analyze myself to try to figure it out. Science is made difficult here.

I will leave this as a question posed to you. Is your voice your soul?