Freeing My Voice

This is the third time I've written this only to have it disappear in an unsaved abyss of my laptop's elusive Neverland. An irony that is not lost on me after a lifetime of attempting to speak my truth and repeatedly receiving messages that what I have to say is unimportant in the world. I have for years experienced the shame, fear, disgust, judgment, and ridicule of others in my efforts to say what I want and need to say for my own understanding and healing.

The silencing of my voice has happened in three primary places:  My Family of Origin, the Church, and my Marriage.

My learned silence began in my family when I was a very small child. I was a LOUDLY talkative, insatiably curious, enthusiastically gregarious, wildly active, deeply thoughtful, and extremely outgoing child. I now understand that in addition to these characteristics, I also had ADHD, although it has only been in the past two years that I have come to understand and accept that as part of my truth about myself. As a person who verbally processes as a way to know and understand my experiences, I talked incessantly as a child while my active brain attempted to deal with all the stimulation that was part of life in my body.

Understandably, I was a lot for my parents, ages 45 and 48 when I was born, to handle. My father responded by disappearing into himself, his work, and the television and simply being present physically and absent emotionally, verbally, and relationally. I'm told, that as a child, my father didn't talk until he was 6 years old himself, a delayed progression he seemed to never really overcome as he navigated the world of relationships and connection with others with as little significant conversation as possible. My mother, on the other hand, was confident, self-assured, and firm leaning toward harsh in her communication as an English professor and studious sort. As my mother was 45 when I was born, she was determined to be sure I felt loved and wanted and regularly told me how wonderful I was. She did not know how to give me tools to allow my verbal processing self to flourish, so when she was exhausted or shocked by my never-ending chatter, she said so in ways that were shaming.  Comments like, "Naomi's never had a thought she hasn't said out loud" were common occurrences in my childhood. I remember in middle school and high school sitting on the kitchen counter as mom made dinner and telling her all about my day. She mostly patiently listened, but when her patience wore thin as it inevitably did at times, she would make a shaming comment to indicate it was time for me to move on to some other activity. When I wasn't talking I was moving. Playing basketball, riding my bike, hitting a tennis ball against the brick wall of my childhood home, and running or walking were all regular physical outlets for my active brain and body.

I recognize that I absorbed a lot of Shame for having a busy brain whose primary outlet was to have lots to say about my world, experiences, thoughts, and observations. Of course, I did not recognize this as Shame, but I did learn that I could be LOUDLY happy, pleasant, and even talkative in ways that most often gained for me the approval of my mother, but anytime I expressed fear, pain, or anger I was immediately corrected and overtly shamed for feeling those unpleasant and consequently unwelcome feelings. So, as a little girl I learned to shut down my feelings of fear, pain, and anger and share only the welcome aspects of my life - my joy, enthusiasm, gratitude, and love. Those other feelings were neatly and summarily tucked away as I navigated my active brain, expressive self, and larger-than-life presence in the world with happiness and contentment. My family, and particularly my mother, benefitted immensely from my silence about the harder aspects of my life as my siblings were all young adults, navigating the world in new marriages, having their children, and relying on my mom as the matriarch of our family for emotional support and through their own challenges. I adapted to keep things peaceful and "positive" in my little nuclear family of me, my mom, and my dad.

Thanks for being here and reading.  I'd love it even more if you engaged in some way.  Feel free to comment or email me if this resonates with you.

Consider reflecting on these questions: Where have you experienced the Silencing of Fear and Shame?Who has benefitted from your Silence? In what areas have you been LOUD in your words or actions even while still suppressing what you really needed to say? Where have you progressed toward freeing your own voice and speaking your truth?