The girl who was afraid of her voice

Let me tell you a story about a little girl who grew afraid to talk. She was a chatterbox. She loved attention. She loved love. The thing she loved best was giving hugs, because she always got one back too. She was happy and vivacious. She doesn’t remember exactly when it happened, when the Change took hold. At some point, she was told to keep quiet. She was told no one cared to hear her. She started learning that she talked too much. She tried to be quieter. She would bite her tongue until it bled. Then, she was told to shut up. “Shut Up-It’s not Your Place to talk". She was told that the word ‘love’ meant it’s ok to hurt people, as long as you say you’re sorry afterwards; as long as you buy them a treat or give them a hug. She was taught to ‘be seen and not heard’ and when she was heard there would be hell to pay. Her voice brought beatings, her voice brought lectures, more punishments that exceeded her crimes. She was taught that respect was owed, not earned. She learned that her body was not her own, her mind she was not allowed to make up. She was taught that to love someone, you had to fear them, actually be afraid of them, of displeasing them in the slightest. She learned how to read every minute nuance of body language. She found out when she could get away with using her voice and when she better not even try. Her body was stronger than his, but she had been instructed in such a way that her head was unaware of this possibility.

One day, she ran away. She ran as far as she could. It wasn't far. There wasn't a city nearby, there wasn't a bus to take to get away.

She found she couldn't run far enough. She learned that she needed to be taught lessons, a lesson of Conditional love, under the same definitions; a lesson in Unconditional Obedience; she learned how much Less she was. She was adrift in her mind; she was lost. Without direction, she drifted through life. She made no plans, she just tried to stay afloat in the sea of her thoughts and life. She hurt herself, over and over. She wanted to end the pain, but couldn't complete the task. There was no thought of a future, only getting thru the moment.

Another day, she was found. She was re-taught about the meanings of words, not by force, not by pain, but by example. She learned that the word ‘love’ had a different meaning to The Rest of The World. A new window opened, to let hope in. There were different definitions to words she grew up hearing; Love & Respect. She discovered that people were supposed to earn her respect; that she herself had earned respect from others without even knowing it. She learned to re name her feelings, to understand compassion was not pity and pity did not love. She found that empathy and sympathy were really so different; and in this she discovered depths of a real Love she had no idea what to name. What she found was her Worth.

With her worth, her words came back. She couldn’t shut up, Wouldn’t shut up. If it happened to her, you knew about it; really, whether she wanted you to or not. She found it hard to secret her important and vulnerable parts. She learned some people used that information to hurt people; Another painful lesson, but a good lesson none the less--because she also learned there are people who will hear her story and think More of her, not Less; people who would support and help her, not hurt her.

She found her voice and then met the voice-less. She knew was it was to be voice-less. She decided to lend her voice, nay to Give her Voice, to Shout for the voice-less. She speaks too much again. But this time, it doesn't bother her that others would say that. Now, she knows, for every doubter, every person who would drag another down, there are 3 that Need to hear her Voice. In Speaking her truth, she found herself again.

So the next time you think, she talks too much, remember what it is to silence her.