Right before sleeping do you ever find yourself thinking about everything possible? Do you notice that when it is quite, our minds talk. Our hearts talk. Our souls talk. They tell us the realities, the harsh truth. They tell us what is wrong, what has been ignored, what shouldn’t have been ignored. They reveal to us what has been neglected and must be seen. When it’s quite, rather than talking, we tune into our minds. We take in what we see around us. We explore our minds, we absorb the thoughts.
When it’s quite, the world observes our silence.
In any case, imagine a scenario in which silence isn’t an appropriate response.
What if calming our voices, for the sake of protest, for the sake of help, for the sake of not starting another argument, for the sake of pride and strength and love—propagates everything that held us down in the first place?
As victims, as survivors, as WARRIORS, the ONLY power we have is our voices.
When we don’t tell the truth of what has happened, when we are advised to remain silent, when we are troubled by torment and blame and dread and outrage and misery and throb and can’t discover our voice—then it is the responsibility of the rest of the women surrounded by us to speak on our behalf.
It is up to us, women, to take in the energy of our voices, the quality of our skin—perhaps not in silence, but rather, basically in solidarity—attesting that our presence matters.
Our essence should be heard.
So no, today, I won’t be quiet. I will write these words and talk them to life on this page. I will remind myself and the women around me that our stories matter, even the hardest ones. I will trust in the quality of our voices. I will have confidence in the extraordinary strength of our souls to keep on being strong, to share our realities, to be open and defenseless and enabling and entirety.
I will share love and expectation since that is the thing that we as a whole need at the present time.
I won’t be silenced.