Whispers We Carry

Being Misunderstood Throughout Life

Photo by Sander Sammy on Unsplash

I learned to speak in whispers when the world only heard shouts, built my house on quiet ground while others followed the noise. Each word I carefully chose became a stranger in their mouths, lost in translation…a compass pointing north when they all were heading south.

I stopped explaining somewhere along the road, when “I love you” was mistaken for “leave me alone.” I have been a book in a language no one tried to learn, a foreign film with subtitles that always miss the meaning. Misunderstood all my life, like a color called by the wrong name…not broken, not wrong, simply lit by a different kind of flame.

They said I was too sensitive, then too cold when I withdrew…too much, then never enough, whatever suited their view. I wore a thousand masks to make the passing easier, but every mask became a mirror, only making the distance clearer.

So I stopped performing somewhere back along the road, when being myself became the heaviest load. Being seen is rare, and being known is underrated. I’m learning now that some hearts aren’t meant to be translated. I’ll keep my strange and tender soul and let it be as it will be. If they don’t understand me, that’s okay…because I do.

If you ever feel like no one gets you, like you’re singing out of key, remember the song isn’t wrong…love…it’s just not for everybody.

Trudy Perez