No Silence Here

You know what I want to do today?
Be real. Follow my instincts.
Write about whatever comes to mind without censor. Talk to you about all things.
Not worry about how long this post will be when it's all said and done.

I was listening to this song this morning on the ride into work...
These lyrics resonated with me, they always do:
"All my life, I've tried to make everybody happy while I just hurt and hide, waiting for someone to tell me it's my turn to decide."

Silence is golden.  That's what they say anyways.  I don't always think so.  Whoever said that probably meant to not say anything if you have nothing nice to say - but the way I grew up?
Silence was my life.  
Silence was not talking about what was happening everyday.  
Silence was only talking when spoken to.
Silence was the good only for the ones that were hurting you.
Silence was the enemy of a little girl.
Silence was a way of survival - until it wasn't.

I always tried to make everyone happy by being silent.  I was raised in a family where you kept your mouth shut about the skeletons in your closet.  I was a pro at it.  I knew that what happened in our family, stayed in our family.  But one day, I just couldn't keep the silence in anymore.

I sat hurt and hiding.  A girl who was afraid to go to her grandparents' house, be in a car alone with her grandfather, or visit her great-grandmother because one of them might be there.  It is no way for a little girl to live.  And, really, it wasn't fair because I was supposed to be protected.

Silence was a curse that I needed to get rid
I was ten-years-old the first time I told.
I was thirteen the second time I said anything.
Things changed rapidly when I finally spoke up.
I became the girl who spoke up for herself.  I became the girl who wouldn't let anyone do a damn thing to her again.  I became the girl who had to defend herself because no one else did.
I became the girl they needed protection from.

I also became the girl who couldn't be trusted with secrets - with the skeletons.

That makes me sad.
As a mother, I don't understand.
As a daughter, I am hurt.
As a niece, I am disappointed.
As a granddaughter, I am outraged.

I lived a long time wondering what I had done wrong.  I lived feeling like it was all my fault.  It has taken me a long time to get over those feelings.  Not because someone in my family told me it wasn't my fault - they still want me to sweep it under the rug, keep it hidden behind that locked door - but, because I had to live my life knowing they all looked at me differently.

My life is what I made of it when all was said and done.
A life where I can live loud.
A life where I'm not afraid of getting hurt.
A life where I am finally surrounded by the ones that will fight for me, protect me, love me unconditionally, know that I am worth it...that I am enough.

I write in this space to release any feelings I have.  The ones that are underneath it all and hidden behind my quiet smile.  I am here to let it all out and not worry about what people will think.  I don't need to keep up appearances any longer.

I am here to be me.
All me.
Unashamed of my past.
Strong in the knowledge that I persevered and conquered.
That no one...not one person can hold me down and tell me to be quiet.

Silence is fine sometimes, I understand.
Being heard and assertive is so much better, though.
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If you know someone who is being silent because of child abuse, please contact Childhelp USA.  Silence is not the answer - help someone have a voice again.


  1. This is so beautifully written once again, Nay. My heart breaks for the little girl that had to go through all that silence and the traumas around it. I am filled with admiration for the amazing woman that you have clearly become. That you had the strength to rise above it all and not let it keep you down or define you in a negative way. Your strength and heart are inspiring. :)


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