I once was told that I was way too loud. Too expressive. Too honest. They asked me to be less. To be silent. To hide who I really am, so that I’d fit in society.
I was too young back then. Immature. Too afraid of rejection, too crazy for acceptance. So I let them won. I let them shut the real me, I let them shut the voice I had. I started to talk less. Started to bottle everything up. Started to fight my battle alone. And unconsciously, I started to lose the real me. That’s when, I didn’t even recognize the girl I saw in the mirror.
I said yes when about to say no. I said I’m okay when I’m dying. My disagreements turned to agreements. What’s good turned to bad. My opinion didn’t matter anymore, the social standards had took the place. My condition been hidden with lies to lies. My emotions been isolated with numbness to numbness. I was no longer the girl I used to be.
I was at loss. I didn’t know who I am anymore, didn’t know what was I doing in the world. And it scared me. It scared me to some point I feel choked. To some point I had to let it out so I could breathe. So I could live.
So I started to write. That was only the time I’d be honest. To myself. To the world.
I write when no one listens. To have control over the words, gives me a sense of power. And that power, has helped me to find who I am now. That power, heals me from all traumatic things that happened through those years. That power, gives me a way out from my toxic-silence. And now, I’ve got my voice back. I, am no longer silent.
