Apr 10, 2012
. . .
Do you hear that?
That is the sound of fear. The sound of my standing – still – in my journey: Afraid to go forward . . . Not willing to go back.
That is the sound of lips not speaking any words that might hurt.
That is the sound of a mind not daring to even think too much about it . . .
For fear the words might just squeeze out.
I am not the woman who expected (or was expected) to make this journey. I am not the brave one. I did not willingly walk to my own drummer. Ever! I have been a go-along and get-along and hide-your-light-under-a-bushel kind of woman. I thought my own thoughts. True. But I carefully kept them to myself — unless I knew the audience was approving. And even then . . . I was SO careful. So afraid.
And so I stand here on this path, uncomfortable.
I (think I) know what I believe. I (think I) know what I do not believe. I (think I) know what I want.
I know I don’t want to be alone. I want to know that the people I know and love the best – husband, father, mother, brothers, sisters, friends, children – will not turn their backs on me. I want them to think of me: The intelligent and moral and brave and good woman. Not a disappointment. Not a failure. Not an object of pity. Not an object of prayer.
I want to preserve the status quo.
Which is why I go silent.