Silence

Ever since I was little I had a thing with silence.

I wanted to be silent because I thought it made me look smarter.

I wanted to be silent because I didn't want others to know what I think about.

I wanted to be silent because a lot of times I didn't really have anything to say.

I wanted to be silent because I wanted to be invisible and unheard.

And I wanted to be silent because I was hateful and I wanted others to suffer in this silence as I did.

I always felt like there was no space in my family to share intimate stuff, feelings, random thoughts, gestures, phases in life, anything without it being scrutinized, examined and judged. It's like my mother was always on the lookout for anything that might go wrong. She was always trying to be ready and she needed things explained so she knew what she was dealing with. If she didn't have all the information, she would fill in the blanks based on her intuition and feelings. A lot of times the feeling was fear - of something she didn't want to be true. She just supposed that's it - there is no clear full picture, so fear fills in, and now it's true. I hated that. I hated how sometimes it happened that I said something and it was, in my impression, wildly misinterpreted. I hated how there were times when she supposed I am full of bad intentions - like I am old and cunning enough to plot and contrive. And honestly I don't know, maybe I was. Because then I came to a decision that I somehow knew would work to do what would hurt her most, and that was to simply shut up. That was the smartest idea I had and it proved impenetrable. I won't give you an opportunity, I was saying in my head, to create a bad person out of me. I want you to feel what it would be like if I wasn't there. I want you to feel how ungrateful you are. I want to tell you that you don't see me, that you don't hear me anyway. You only pay attention to your fears and expectations and interpretations. You can say I am selfish for not speaking, that I am weird, ungrateful, that something is wrong with me. Gradually, I will believe that. And I will believe it only because I will be shut down for so long that I won't even remember what the reason was for it in the first place. But I will protect myself from thinking that my core is evil. I will protect myself from your fears of supernatural, evil forces always lurking about sent from hateful people to hurt you through hurting your children, twins that, after two miscarriages and losing hope of ever having children again, you deemed two miracles. I am not evil. I am not an enigmatic child that you can never understand. I am just full of your fear. It's been seeping into me for years, since the time I was small and inexperienced and unknowing of how to protect myself from other people and their feelings. I let it all under my skin and into my organs. And I spent years wondering what happened, where does all this fear come from. What am I so fearful of? Why do I fear people? For some reason I don't really fear God. But I do fear people, and I fear everything that is good in my life. I spent my young years waiting for something bad to happen. And that is not my fear. None of them are my fears.

My only fear is that I won't be loved, that I will be abandoned. And that one I really can't figure out where it's coming from.

I love you, Mother. But I also love speaking. I love dancing and joking and moving my body around. In truth, I am shameless. I don't want your shame anymore.

I also love life. I love people, their faces, their voices, their feelings, their fire and movement, their need for change, their authenticity, their action. I don't want to fear people anymore, Mother. In truth, I am a very talkative and friendly person. I am not this shell of a, euphemistically "shy" person, someone who fears other people's opinions, feelings and intentions. I am not someone who doesn't trust myself. I am not someone who, not euphemistically, thinks that they take up space and air and that they have no place anywhere. I want to be here, a part of this world, a part of this society. It's lovely. It's difficult and it's lovely. Intimacy is worth working for. I love spending time alone, but I really don't like feeling lonely and I am sick of it. I really have had enough. I will do everything in my power to surround myself with people that I think are great. And I don't care what anyone else thinks. I trust my feeling and my opinion.

And that's it. I can't be a vessel for your fears and loneliness anymore. I empty myself of it, so I can be replenished with something richer. With my presence, and others'.

I love you. But this is how I want to change the meaning of the word love. Do not fear for me. Love me and trust me and trust that I will find my way in this world, among the evil and dangerous. I feel my strength. And I want to be there to understand you and hold your fears for you. But I can't take them inside anymore.

They suffocate and they silence. I don't want to feel that kind of silence anymore.