A Truth

Sometimes the worst parts of ourselves

are the parts that everyone wants us to reveal

because everyone wants to feel

that they are not alone,

that what they feel is known, and understood

and that amidst this cacophony

of voices telling us to hide it all away

we stand tall and say:

"We are not okay;

we're not alright."

And as our words take flight

and grace the ears of those still fighting to hold it all in,

we realize that righting a wrong

is sometimes as simple as admitting to a long held secret

that was never meant to be kept.

All the while the world slept,

keeping secrets we all knew and understood

but yet feared to reveal,

for fear of making noise, or losing poise

by admitting to the tears that we cried

and all the times we tried to end our pain.

This shame, brittle and immovable as it appears,

it is not ours;

it is not ours to take our fears as truth

and give them ammunition

to attack our conviction

that we are worth fighting for,

that our words are worth hearing

that everything we are fearing

is not all there is;

that there is more.

You are not the sum of your parts;

there is no number to count

the measure of your heart

or the worth of your mind.

These are not materials that can be counted or measured

but are treasured for their insurmountability.

But so often we're so scared of how much we need to be heard

that we don't say anything at all.

And when the chips begin to fall

we see how it could have been mended

if we hadn't just pretended that everything was fine;

if we had just crossed that line

and realized it was okay to admit to being broken,

that maybe letting ourselves say it

would leave the door open for others.

And maybe that could be our reason to keep going,

always knowing that this will pass, this will end,

and if we lend each other the courage to speak up,

maybe then it will be enough for us to realize this fact:

that even though we all hear that voice

calling out for us to be silent,

we all have a choice

whether or not to be compliant.

So the next time that voice is holding you back

from telling someone you're under attack,

you turn and you make this decision

to stand up to your fear and tell it:

"I hear you,

but I don't have to listen."