Silence Can Become A Habit

"Don't say anything." That was the rule.

It was kind of a motto in my family growing up.

"Don't complain.

Don't express too much.

Don't make it bigger than it needs to be." There was always a sense that feelings were something to manage quietly, something to move through without drawing too much attention.

And look, I get it.

There's a time and a place for everything, right? You don't need to unload every thought in every moment.

You don't need to react to every feeling that passes through.

But what happens when that becomes the default state? What happens when "Don't say anything" becomes the way you relate to yourself? I grew up in a Hispanic household where emotion had a rhythm, a constant one.

It wasn't that we didn't feel deeply, we did, but expression came with conditions.

You could be upset, but not disrespectful.

You could be hurt, but not dramatic.

You could feel something strongly, but you had to learn how to hold it in in a way that didn't disrupt the system, and that teaches you something early on.

I remember being in elementary school and dealing with this girl who was just mean.

Nowadays, you would call her a bully.

At the time, it was difficult to explain when you're little because it happens in small, humiliating ways.

One day she'd talk to me like we were friends, and the next she'd whisper to somebody else and look right at me while they laughed.

She'd make little comments about my clothes, my hair, the way I talked, and I remember feeling my stomach drop every time I saw her walking towards me.

And the message I got, both at school and at home, was some version of, "Don't say anything.

Don't make it worse.

Don't give her a reaction.

Just ignore it." And look, sometimes that advice makes sense.

Sometimes staying quiet is protection.

But when you're young, you don't always know the difference between choosing silence and being silenced.

So I learned to read the room.