SILENCE IS NOT ALWAYS GOLDEN!

 

Image Source: Pinterest

SILENCE IS NOT ALWAYS GOLDEN!

SCENARIO ONE: Back in primary school I was really the quiet character and there was this boy who always bullied me to a point it affected me and I never shared it with anyone, I used to ask myself why didn’t he bully the rest of the girls or even pupils. I used to cry many times but not in public, one day my classmate found me crying and asked me why I’m crying I told her about the boy in our class but her response wasn’t helpful she told me that, he is a playful boy I think he is not a bully and likes joking around. I think that grew fear in me towards boys. In Sunday school I had a similar experience, a certain boy used to tear my lace dresses. His way of bullying me was tearing off the lace part of it (thank God the dresses had a lining), I used to go home crying. I don’t remember any other girls complain of their dresses been torn and if there were, they never spoke about it. Those two experiences happened in my early stages of school but I did bury them somewhere inside of me.

Why did I bury the experiences? Maybe I thought it was normal and we were young, but it still affected me silently. However over the years I have learnt that speaking out and to the necessary people is a first step to healing deep inside, I never shared with any teacher in school and as for Sunday school I never shared with any of the teachers.

SCENARIO TWO: I had just cleared high school and thought I was all grown up to even attend overnight parties (hahaha I still laugh at this to date). So there was a Christmas Eve house party at one of my cousin’s place and I really wanted to go but of course I was too young to go out and still fresh from school. Since some of my cousins were going I decided to escort them to the bus stop where they would board a matatu to their destination, at home they knew I was coming back after escorting my cousins. When I got to the bus stop I still felt I should go, you know that small voice that keeps telling you…’Go…Go…Just go…You are in safe hands and again it’s your cousin’s place…there’s no harm in it’. Long story short I never went back home but joined my cousins to attend the party.

Why did I want to attend the party? To be honest I really wanted to fit in, in the elder cousins group, to feel like I belong and just wanted to be part of a crowd. I still ask myself why I wanted to feel part of a crowd and in some of my adult years I also never wanted to be left behind when people attended parties or such gatherings. I thought its curiosity or been rebellious but that wasn’t it, because I wasn’t and have never been a fan of all the hullabaloos in parties, but it was just that comfort of being in the company of people, talking and laughing together.

I have been able to pen this down because I am a working progress in healing, acceptance name it and whatever happened to me in the past has in one way affected my today.

All those buried memories that seem to be fresh new memories to date, tells you that it wasn’t really dead and buried, but it was just hidden in a corner and kept coming alive when a similar experience triggered the memories. Deep buried memories build up monsters symbolically.

Everyone has a story or stories, but what I have learnt is that silence is not always golden! Speak out when you have a chance, even when they doubt you there’s someone more superior who hears, listens and knows it all speak to Him in prayer as though having a dialogue with someone directly and He will do His part…, That super being is God our Father.

Part Two loading soon…