Why I Keep to Myself (And Why It’s So Much Deeper Than People Think)

Some people think being quiet means you’re rude. Or stuck-up. Or “funny acting.” But silence often has a story, a long, messy, and painful one that most people couldn’t handle if they knew the details.

This is mine.

The other day, someone asked me, “Why don’t you ever talk to anybody?” I gave them the short answer. (I’m a loner) “Because I didn’t want to talk about it.” So it was a simple and straight-to-the-point answer.

But later, sitting by myself, I realized it’s much deeper than that.

When I was a little girl, I didn’t have a voice. Growing up, speaking your opinion was a quick way to get slapped in the mouth. You didn’t talk, you obeyed. I think that’s where my shyness started. Nobody spoke to me anyway, so it became easier to stay quiet and keep to myself. On top of that, we weren’t allowed to be around people, so the world felt far away, like a place I was never meant to belong. That part of me followed me into adulthood. I’ve heard it all. “She’s funny acting.” “She’s antisocial.” “She thinks she’s better than everyone.” But here’s the thing, they don’t know the real reason. They don’t know the years behind my silence. And honestly, I let people talk. If they think they’ve got me figured out, fine. I don’t have the energy to explain my entire life story to anyone.

What most don’t see is that I actually a big-hearted person. I wear my heart on my sleeve. Yes, people take advantage of that sometimes, but I try not to let it change me. Especially now, in a world where people judge you for everything, from the shoes on your feet to a family member you’ve never even met, they rarely stop to think about why a person is the way they are. I’ve been through more than I would wish on my worst enemy.

• Parents who didn’t love me.

• A father who molested me.

• Classmates who mocked my name and laughed at my weight.

• Family who told me I was “too fat” and needed to lose weight.

• Watching my siblings get new things while I got their hand-me-downs.

• Almost being raped by someone I was dating because I refused to have sex with him. The only reason I got away was because I rolled onto the floor and ended up hitting my head on the nightstand, and reached for my phone, but was too scared to call for help because I feared what my sister would say.

• I’ve had an uncle and his son cross lines no family should. His son asked me for sexual acts, and the uncle, when his wife wasn’t home, walked around in his underwear, went through my phone, and made inappropriate comments about my pictures. Asking for massages in his underwear. Then tells me not to say anything.

• I’ve been abused by people I thought were friends. Forced kisses. Unwanted touching.

• I’ve been beaten by my father until I passed out and hit my head on the wall.

• Beaten with a broomstick until knots rose up on my legs.

• Getting put out on the street by my mother with no place to go at the age of 16

• Getting talked about like a stranger on the street by my mother to my brother and whoever else.

The list goes on.

When you’ve survived that much, you either let the pain consume you or you turn it into something else. I chose love. I chose to love people hard, especially the ones in my circle, because I never want anyone to feel the way I did growing up. People think keeping to yourself means you don’t like people. But for me, it means I protect my peace. I’ve learned that not everyone deserves access to my energy, and that’s okay. What I want more than anything is my own family, one I can protect, nurture, and love unconditionally. I want to break generational curses, to never, ever treat my child the way my parents treated me. I want to give them the hugs, the encouragement, and the safety I longed for as a little girl.

So the next time someone asks why I don’t talk much, maybe I’ll just smile. Not because I owe them the truth, but because I know the truth, and that’s enough.

• I’m not “antisocial.”

• I’m not “funny acting.”

• I’m someone who’s been through hell and decided to come out with a softer heart, not a harder one.

And if you ever do get to know me, you’ll see I’m the kind of person who loves deeply, forgives often, and understands pain better than most.