Silence

The silence was once a terrifying thing, for it brought a certain uneasy stillness. One that could not mask the things one wishes to hideaway. To stop and listen to nothing, slow down and see the things around, it was once a nightmare. The silence only highlighted the monsters underneath the bed that I thought would one-day disappear on their own. The fear became so great that I refused to acknowledge it for years, and I filled my life with chaos and negativity to avoid it at all costs. I knew I couldn’t listen to the voice inside if I surrounded myself with so much noise. Because in the silence, all I have is myself. I used to allow everyone around me to tell me who I was and what I wanted. They inadvertently told me what to wear, how to behave, what I should eat. And I thought it was easier to live that way, to be whatever everyone wanted me to be. It took years of frustration struggling with my inner silence and the world that I realized I am nothing without my voice. And I would rather live in my silence and know who I am than be consumed by the noise.