The Silence

📘 The Spaces in Between

Panda, 4th August Year 4

If you’re looking for a sign you have done the right thing, take their silence as the only sign you’ll ever need.

The family. The friends.

They teach you that family is everything. Once you’re married you’re a union, you become part of a new family. You’re a new daughter. You get involved.

Even before the “I dos” you make an effort and make sure you’re giving a good vibe. That his image is protected. You are subconsciously programmed to make sure you’re meeting the deadlines, you’re prepared for birthdays, Christmases, and everything in between. The cards are posted, and the presents are bought on time. You make sure you prompt the dinners, and Sunday lunches so it’s all even and his image is protected.

You’re the link between him and his family. They will call you if they need him because he’s so shit at texting or calling back, and we’re all having a laugh about it.

You’re the point of contact.

They teach you to take pride in that. You should be proud that his bond with his family is growing stronger.

They also teach you to be humble, to not ask for things, to not mention or even notice when you’re the last one to get picked; when the words are not kind, when the behaviour is cold and when you’re overlooked and dismissed.

When you’re the last one to be noticed, when the good wishes, care and cards are not coming for you. You shouldn’t notice, you shouldn’t complain. You’re told it’s all in your head. You care too much. You need too much. You imagine things. It’s who they are.

They need, they take but you never receive.

You’re feeding off the joy that, after a complicated childhood and young adulthood the bond with his mother and sisters has never been stronger.

And then it happens.

And then the silence.

You cease to exist. You’re not a caring person anymore, not that you’ve ever been.

You don’t need checking in. You’ve confirmed their thoughts of you.

Even those who have experienced the same cycle cannot find the eyes to see you as a person.

After almost a lifetime you don’t exist anymore.

Silence.

And that’s all you ever need to you know you have made the right choice.

And then something incredible happens.

You know he’s seeking support, talking and asking for advice. You know how he relays information, how untrue and narrow it is because you know the veil he has in front of his eyes. You’ve felt it for nine months. You know how they react, you know the looks, you know the smirks, you know the words. You had glimpses of their values over the last decade.

And then something even more incredible happens.

The You who once stressed and cared about what people think, how they see you, and what conversations they might have about you,

The You who was once putting all energy into telling them, convincing them you didn’t mean any harm, that it’s a complex situation, that all you wanted was to connect and be closer than ever,

The You who would take time out of your own life to convince everyone around you that you are worthy of love,

Has suddenly died.

But this You, the one who was born from last year’s ashes, she is at peace that she doesn't have to worry anymore about being too much or not enough.

She is free to find her people.

She is me.

Now I can observe the situation and I am relieved I am no longer part of it.

It's daunting to start a new journey but I’m lighter because I don’t have to carry other people's opinions with me. Now I’m strategizing and figuring out my new life and I’m at peace that I don’t have to answer to them.

The silence that once tormented me has now become my solace.

His silence is complicit to their silence.

His silence supports his unkindness.

People really show you who they truly are at the end. I never believed it could happen to us. And yet, here we are.

I am no longer hurt by their silence, I now take it as a sign I am doing the right thing.

I am no longer outraged by their unkindness and hurtful words, I am happy I’m walking away now, not in 50 years.