I often stay quiet in groups, sometimes because I don’t have the right words to say, sometimes because I’d rather listen than speak. I’m afraid to be understood, yet afraid not to be.
I’m afraid of saying too much. I’m afraid that if I start, that I just won’t stop… There’s just too much water pressing against the dam and I’m afraid that if I let it go, it’ll just flood the whole space. It’s like the Superchick song, Stand In The Rain. “She fears if she cries that first tear, the tears will not stop raining down.”
The trouble with this is that my life begins to look put together, then I become unrelatable. Then I don’t know what to do. My life isn’t as perfect as it may sometimes outwardly look. I don’t like the masks, but sometimes my masks aren’t to protect me, they’re to protect the ones I care about.