Cosmos of Kate

Growing up, I was mostly a quiet child, at least in public. Around select friends and family it was hard to get me to shut up at times. I had to feel at ease to really open up. Sometimes I wonder if I was born this way, or if I grew into it… being relatively silent. I recall times when I was young and feelings would explode out of me, likely from being bottled up too long. I went through a lot in my undeveloped brain and I didn’t know how to make sense of it all, so I just sat with it until it spilled over.

Certain relationships throughout my life have also caused me to remain more tight lipped than I would have preferred. Walking on eggshells is something not unfamiliar to me. Catering to someone else’s attitudes and emotions to keep the calm, not rock the boat. I chalked it up to being a peacekeeper, when in reality I was just silencing myself to satisfy others. I was the one giving up, being the pushover, just so I didn’t get yelled at, or be made to feel small.

During those times when everything did spill over and my feelings exploded out of me, I often felt as though I had done something wrong, that I was somehow at fault and couldn’t keep myself under control. This just silenced me even more over the years. I wrote lots of poetry in high school. Was I an angsty teen with lots of fierce emotions? Who wasn’t? Poetry, writing in general, was one consistent outlet I had to release my feelings in a way where I didn’t have to share them with anyone else… I didn’t need to worry about feeling ashamed or small as long as no one read them or understood what they meant. Looking back, it was really my first form of therapy.

As I matured over the decades, I continued to find myself in relationships where I felt silenced, or the need to be silent. It felt like any time I opened up about how I truly felt, something or someone would break. Actual therapy, talking therapy, was one outlet that started healing me slowly. It felt amazing to spill my guts to a complete stranger, one with tools to help me make sense of universe inside me. I am, and will always be, one of the biggest cheerleaders for mental health professionals. My most recent therapist, whether consciously or by happy accident, has been slowly helping me find the voice that I have been repressing the majority of my life.

A recent realization that has also helped me find my voice, is that I am finally, unequivocally, in my own corner of the ring of my life. I like myself. I love myself. I finally feel sure enough of myself to speak what I think and feel, regardless of the consequences. Does that mean I’m just going around being an asshole to everyone? Of course not. I still care about… some people. But I am finally brave enough, calloused enough, sure enough of who I am, what I want and what I believe, that I’m not afraid to speak my mind. I’m also starting to understand why some people love to hear themselves talk, and walk around with a cocky, know-it-all attitude. Those are the people that grew up being and feeling this way. I had to learn it. I had to earn it.

If there is one thing I still need to hone on this journey of self expression, it’s continuing to consider the thoughts and feelings of others as I gain confidence. While I definitely have started finding my voice, and enjoy letting others hear it finally, I have been on the opposite side of strong voices the majority of my life and I know what it feels like to be silenced by them. I aim to always remember there are two sides to EVERY story, more than one right answer, and no (or at least few) wrong opinions. But while these are very important things to remember when finding one’s voice, the most important thing is fighting to never let it be silenced again.