I believe in not speaking, unless I have something to contribute. Mindless chatter for no other reason than filling up some silent void is silly to me. I rarely share my thoughts or feelings, not because I don’t have them, but because I don’t think the people around me care about the daily nuances of my life. Do you really care about how I got up this morning… drank coffee… couldn’t find my orange workout shirt, which I later found on the kitchen floor? No – I barely care about my morning.
Often my silence has been taken for being aloof, or even insecurity. It’s neither. Mostly it’s because I’m always in my own head thinking for other people. I decide what they want to hear, or what they would find interesting. Before you call me out for being rude, we all do it. We decide how much of any story we should share, because we never want to make ourselves look bad. I’m just copping to it. I especially do this at work. I call it filtering myself. (Though, its only because of work that I have any people skills at all.)
I’ve lost many friendships because I do not hold up what they perceive as my end of the bargain. Even though I would always be there, at the drop of a hat, handing them the shirt off my back; They couldn’t live in a world with me where I didn’t call them daily to inquire about their morning. This is why I have the most amazing best friend, who just calls me and says WTF Kristy – I haven’t talked to you all week.
I wouldn’t change it though because words have power. They have so much power to hurt, to heal, and even to destroy. My silence is keeping my ugly inside. When I feel a burst of emotion coming on, I go quiet. If I stay quiet its because you’ve hurt my feelings, but I’m not confident enough to tell you how I feel. It’s not because I’m afraid or because I want some predetermined outcome, it’s because I genuinely hate hurting other people’s feelings.
I believe the world needs more silence…