Meanwhile, he felt totally comfortable venting to me about anything and everything.
I’d sit and listen, support him, be present—but when it was my turn to talk? I’d get cut off. Dismissed. Rushed into silence.
Like what I was saying didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter.
So, I held it in. I became the “silent partner.” And let me tell you, it wasn’t healthy.
But what was I supposed to do?
We were so good together in other ways. We laughed, we loved, we showed up for each other.
But when it came to communication—my communication—it felt like I was on mute.
And it wasn’t a one-time thing. It happened over and over again.
The pattern was always the same: I’d get shut down, go quiet, and carry it around until the weight of it broke me. Then there’d be tears. Tension. A blow-up.
Only then did he realize how deeply it affected me. I tried to tell him calmly, directly, but it went in one ear and out the other. And still, it kept happening.
Every time I bottled up my emotions, a little part of me dimmed. A little part of my spirit got quieter. And it wasn’t because I ran out of words—it was because I stopped believing they’d be heard.
I didn’t want to be the silent partner anymore.
I wanted to feel safe to speak, to vent, to feel. I wanted the same space I gave. The same care. The same attention.
Because communication isn’t just about talking—it’s about listening, too. And I deserved to be heard.
Until We Speak Again,
A Silent Soul
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