He tiptoes into your life, while you are not paying attention.
He stifles your voice.
She tells you, “no one cares.”
He says to you, “they won’t listen.”
You believe him.
You ask her to stay.
You begin to believe …
…that you’re alone.
…that your feelings are wrong.
…that talking will make it worse.
…that telling someone will backfire.
You’ve believed the lies.
The lies that hold you captive.
The lies that keep you aching.
Silence is a liar + he is a parasite, draining you slowly.
You won’t really notice she is there, until she has control.
Once you believe what he tells you, you feel powerless.
You feel alone.
She tells you no one cares + it becomes your mantra.
These are the lies.
The lies that will cause you to die while you live…
…unable to let people in.
…unable to truly breath + be you.
Silence knows your weakness + feeds your hurts.
He’s convincing + sly.
But silence has a weakness too.
+ you have the power to destroy it.
:: :: :: :: ::
Motherhood has caused me to think + ponder a whole heck of a lot more than I did before. Perhaps it’s my constant fear of messing up, or maybe it’s my background in psychology. I’m thinking a big part of it has to do with my need to know “why,” but maybe it’s the consistent nursing sessions where I end up sitting on the couch + I have time to think.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about silence. I’ve been thinking about how ugly it is, how easily it takes control + how I wish it would leave me alone.
We underestimate the power of our voices. I know I do. I find myself having big dreams that I keep in my head. I’m worried that if I say these dreams out loud, that I will be laughed at or seen as childish.
We underestimate the power of speaking to one another. I know I do.
Sometimes often I assume that my husband just knows what I’m thinking. I choose to only say what needs to be said. Or even worse? I just point out the negative. When I’m struggling with an insecurity, I keep it to myself. I bottle it up. + I tell myself that it’s not worth talking about.
We underestimate the power of saying something kind to a stranger. …a friend. …a loved one. … another mother. …a dad. …a parent. I know I do.
We underestimate the power of silence. But we also underestimate the power we have to destroy it.
So I’m asking for your stories. I will share mine too. I want us to come together + break this bondage so many of us live in. It might be something you consider small, but if silence is feeding you lies, it’s big enough to get it back.
I want us to learn from one another. I want us to share. I want us to show the world that our voices carry weight. That our voices, speaking truth, drown out the silence. They drown out the lies + leave them powerless.
Send me your story. Let us use our voices to encourage, to uplift, to change + to share. Share the small stuff. Share the big stuff.
I will start a series of these stories, if you’re willing to share.
Will you help me break the lies of silence?
I’m serious about the t-shirts.