"The Weight of Silence"

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For many years, I lived in silence. I was not allowed to show emotions to friends or family, and the weight of that silence pressed down on me every day. I felt as though I was drowning in sorrow, pain, sadness, and disappointment. Inside, I wanted to scream, to let the world know how long I had been away from my own country, living in a house that never felt like home. My arms were open only to protect my children, shielding them from the pain I carried inside. The agony of each day was knowing that tomorrow would bring the same questions: What else must I endure? What have I done wrong to not deserve love, attention, or honesty? Why was I not protected by the one person who was supposed to be my shelter? I was far from home, far from the family and friends who might have protected me from harm.

 The worst moment of my life came when I misscarried at 8 weeks. The truth of how and why it happened haunted me, drowning me in guilt and sorrow. For years, I stayed quiet, letting the pain eat away at me. The guilt of not knowing how to face that challenge, of not having answers, was a burden I carried alone. I remember the emptiness of those days—the quiet of the house, the ache in my heart, the way I would hold my children a little tighter, desperate to protect them from the pain I could not escape myself. Even in the darkest moments, I found a small strength in my children’s presence. Their laughter, their need for me, gave me a reason to keep going. I stayed silent for them, but inside, I was fighting to survive, to find hope, and to believe that one day, I would be able to speak my truth.


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