Silence is the most daunting side effect of putting yourself out there. Silence is the sound that haunts your thoughts at all hours of the day and night. It creeps into the crevices of your biggest fears and doubts and eats its way further and further until the wounds fester.
It is in the most silent of moments that you either choose to give up or strain to hear the music. These are the make or break moments for me because in silence, it is very easy to hear the nagging of my inner negative voice. She screams as loud as the silence, their voices creating a chorus of You’re Not Good Enough. Silence calls for me to join in her pity party. As tempting as it can be to dive head first into the Silence’s negativity, I’m working to stay out of it.
That pity party offers nothing for me. It doesn’t invite me to write or create. It places a spotlight on every flaw and mistake and reminds me that those moments are defining.
But they aren’t.
Silence is a liar. Her pity party is a drag and a bore, and it is not one I ever want to RSVP to (though there are times I do attend despite my better judgement).
When Silence creeps in, I like to drown her out with music or audiobooks. If I fill my ears and mind with words and music, Silence can’t get a work in edgewise. Her voice is muted. Her negativity stifled.
It is in those moments that I remember I have the power and the control, not Silence.