If You Don’t Speak

(You Will Die)

Sufjan got it right.

words are futile devices.

I've always believed that.

I feel like speaking, or rather using words, can never truly help me speak.

There have been so many moments throughout my life where I've had conversations with a partner, a friend or a parent and walked away feeling like I had even more to say than when I walked into the conversation.

The problem is people don't really listen anymore. Sure, you can speak, but people often hear what they want to hear.

You say you're overwhelmed and someone asks if they're too much for you.

You say you're tired and someone responds with, "What do you even do?"

Somehow your words stop belonging to you the moment they leave your mouth.

I've honestly never left a conversation feeling like I had truly spoken.

So eventually, you stop trying.

You tell yourself silence is easier than constantly being misunderstood.

At least that's what I told myself.

The thing is, not speaking comes with consequences too.

All my life I've been silenced.

Eventually I started silencing myself too.

And the more time went on, the more I died a little inside.

You forget what your voice sounds like.

You forget how to speak.

You forget that your thoughts deserve to exist outside of your own head.

The scary part is that, at first, silence feels like a choice.

You choose not to say anything.

You choose to keep the peace.

You choose not to inconvenience anyone.

But after a while it stops being a choice.

You're no longer choosing silence.

You've been silenced.

You've spent so much time swallowing your words that they no longer know how to come out.

For the longest time, if someone had asked me, "Would you rather speak or die?" I would've chosen silence.

Because speaking hurts.

Being misunderstood hurts.

Feeling unheard hurts.

But I've realised that every time I chose silence, I was choosing a different kind of death.

A slow one.

The kind where you lose yourself piece by piece.

The kind where one day you wake up and realise you don't even recognise your own voice anymore.

So speak.

Scream if you have to.

Whisper if that's all you can manage.

Say all the silly things that come into your mind.

Ask your stupid questions.

Be curious.

Talk to yourself.

Talk to everyone.

Take your voice back.

Don't let yourself die with a million words trapped at the back of your throat.

Don't let yourself live with a heart made heavy by everything you never said.

Don't reduce yourself to nothing because people can't handle your muchness.

I know words will never fully capture the magnitude of what we feel.

Maybe Sufjan was right.

Maybe words really are futile devices.

But the least we can do is try.

Because speaking isn't always about being understood.

Sometimes it's about refusing to disappear.

Sometimes it's about reminding yourself that you are still here.

So speak.

As hard as it might be.

As terrifying as it might be.

Speak.

Because if you don't, you will die.