I wanted to sit down and write. I felt like the words were trying to claw their way out of me, as if they needed to be spelled out in order to be whole. And then yet the minute I started I froze. Nothing came to mind. The clawing came to a halt and I felt like a little girl standing outside in the summer at dusk. I could hear people in the distance laughing and I saw the beautiful fireflies come out. But I stayed silent and still.
I have always been extremely talkative, you can flashback to videos of me as a child jabbering on nonstop not allowing anyone to get a word in edgewise. And nothing I was saying had any real meaning or true importance I just hated the silence. I talked so much my sister started becoming known as the quiet one. I envied her. I wanted to be so comfortable with my thoughts that I could sit quietly and just enjoy being around the conversation. Looking back at it now, she had so many important things to say but we never got to hear them.
Being known as the loud one became my MO. It was just assumed when we went somewhere, or met new people, I would be the one to carry on the conversation. I would be the one to answer the questions and I would be the one to say what they wanted to hear. At first I enjoyed it, the attention was on me and adults were always telling my parents how mature and pleasant I was. I started being able to read a room and know what kind of things to say based on who was in the room. And my sister was always happily at my side, until she wasn’t.
I don’t really know when things changed but over time she started to get annoyed with my loud. I embarrassed her and I didn’t let her have a voice. I couldn’t understand why it bothered her so much when my entire life up until then had been that way. It is only now that I can imagine it bothered her because she had important things to say because now listening to her is captivating. But at the time I didn’t understand that. I just continued on the way I always had.
When I said I was able to read a room, I really was. I could tell just based on a few snippets of conversation with people, what I should be saying and talking about. I molded my voice to say what they wanted to hear. And I continued doing this with everyone because I liked hearing what a good person I was, or how mature I was, or any other small compliment thrown my way. When in reality what I actually wanted to say was not what they wanted to hear, so I wanted to be the quiet one.
I felt like screaming sometimes. I wanted to walk into a room and for once say exactly what I was thinking. I wanted to talk about things that mattered or say nothing at all and just enjoy being part of the conversation. But instead I said the right things and I was animated and engaged and acted like I loved it.
Now don’t get me wrong being the loud one did pay off for me, it has given me a skill set that makes me excel in my career and makes me an easy person for people to go to. Both of which are things that make me extremely happy, I love my job and I love knowing that even if just for a few minutes I can help someone through something. But being the loud one all my life, I started to notice that people eventually stopped listening because they realized what I had to say wasn’t always meaningful or important. I lost the opportunity to use my voice for good, to use my voice to help people who don’t have one.
My sister on the other hand was always the quiet one which paid off for her too, now when she speaks she commands an audience. People listen to her like they are hanging on to every word wondering what she will string together in her sentences. Its as if people know that since she does not jabber on pointlessly that what she is saying must be meaningful or funny or thought provoking. People know that when she speaks she is passionate about what she is saying, and that she truly believes in it, not just saying it to please the people around her. How many people can you say are like that?
So when I say I wanted to sit down and write today, I really did. I wanted to shout out the things that matter to me. I wanted to use my words to scream what I found important and what I am passionate about. But being someone who was loud without really saying anything, I seemed to choke on the words as they came out. And so instead we ended up here.
I have started trying to be the quiet one. I have started trying to really listen when people talk and instead of saying what they want to hear, I have been working on saying what I want to say. And it is here where I am truly inspired by my sister because it is no easy feat to be so passionate about your thoughts that you don’t mind if not everyone agrees. I am trying to find moments to be quiet and moments to understand that I do not have to please every person I talk to. But 23 years of being the loud one has made it difficult to find the silence.
Frizzy Thoughts 