When I was a young child, sore throats were a common thing for me. We could never figure out why I kept having them, but I later ended up with a diagnosis of laryngitis. Somewhere in my early teen years, I recall someone saying that my frequent sore throats could be due to emotional suppression. While that may have been true, evidence pointed to allergic reactions and that felt like the only and more plausible explanation for my repeated infections. At that point, I could not conceive how my emotional state can so deeply affect my physical well being.
By the time I got to my late teens and early twenties, I began having what felt like a massive ball in my throat obstructing everything I tried to eat or drink, causing immense discomfort. I could barely eat, function during the day and sleep well at night, because this globus sensation which I later discovered to be globus pharyngeus disrupted my whole life. It caused a severe decline in my quality of life. This was happening along with other symptoms and it wasn’t until my mid-twenties was I able to get a formal diagnosis of fibromyalgia.
By then, I had already gone through several relationships from my first love, to the person who would eventually become my husband and future ex-husband. I had never been particularly shy or a wallflower, but I wasn’t the most vocal person in a room. I always tried to be sociable enough without too much small talk. I hate small talk! I was also the girl who was great at getting the second, third, and subsequent dates, but I quickly realized, that some of my relationships—as a young woman unequipped for dating—meant silencing myself.
As the years went by, I got really good at staying silent when necessary. This doesn’t mean that I never voiced how I felt, but rather that I felt backed into a corner by several of my influential relationships. I felt so many times that my words were falling on deaf ears. I also got the silent treatment, a tactic used to manipulate or stonewall me in an effort to maintain secrets and lies when I “asked too many questions.” Had these questions been answered quickly and honestly, healthier relationships could have been developed, but rather actively silencing me was used to avoid being accountable. Even worse, my inner child wasn’t healed and I was seeking that approval from my partners who were typically older. I learned to make this behavior acceptable to keep the peace, because rather than cause good trouble, I learned to become an active participant in my own demise.
At some point, I lost myself. Marriage and motherhood encouraged what I felt was necessary to keep the peace and keep a relationship that did not benefit me alive. I for one always believed that divorce is there for a reason. I was getting to a point where I no longer wanted to engage in toxic behaviors to uphold the myth of the nuclear family as the pinnacle of my success, just to avoid anything outside of it that is considered a m degradation of the family structure. I had to leave. I needed to find myself.
It took a lot of work after a downward spiral in September 2020 at the height of the pandemic. I was now a single mother, raising two children and doing my very best to coparent. The job I had been at for almost three years was coming to an end and people I knew were dying. I was in a deep state of grief, not only because I was put in a position to initiate a divorce, but also from losing loved ones. The only thing that somewhat kept me together was that job, so when it ended, I felt like Superman going into a free fall from the highest of highs to a morbid low.
I had reached out for help. I had only been with this therapist for about two months. I think the first two months, I was feeling her out. I was still questioning what I should and could share. I know she sensed I wasn’t being one hundred percent authentic and I was holding back a lot. It was the behavior of my childhood once again rearing its ugly head. I absorb all my pain and emotions into my body and it was destroying me with frequent fibromyalgia flares. I suppress a lot of feelings and whenever I got the urge to say something and held back, there would be an intense pain in my throat. It was intense and would linger post session. There was that connection that my elder told me about; the one I attributed primarily to allergies. There was no denying it.
I had gotten so used to being silenced that I couldn’t allow myself to even feel safe with my therapist, who I was paying for a service and where it was her job to listen to me. When that job ended in September of 2020, it was the ultimate divine intervention. I don’t think I had ever cried this much in my life to a stranger. I felt like a fallen autumn leaf that was being blown every which way. I had no sense of direction and as someone who always needs a plan, this was new and scary territory for me. The uncertainty was terrifying and I knew I had to talk about this before it consumed me.
I started to talk with my therapist, once a week and sometimes twice a week when I needed it. I realized more and more how much emotional trauma I had been through in some of my relationships. some of it was rooted in my need to compromise. It is a word I heard a lot being thrown around to help women keep a relationship healthy and alive. But for whom?
Compromising isn’t inherently bad, but over the years, I realized it is rather the way it is exercised that can go so wrong. What could be an opportunity for connection can quickly turn into something where an emotionally unhealthy or manipulative partner can use it to their advantage. In that case, one party becomes the giver and the other the taker resulting in an unhealthy relationship.
There is this video where actress and singer Eartha Kitt is being asked, “But are you willing to compromise in a relationship?”
To which she answered, “Compromise? What is compromising? Compromising for what? Compromising for what reason?”
These were all great questions. It is so easy to lose one’s self in an effort to compromise. And most compromise requires some degree of silence. Whether the silence is reflected in one’s choice to not ask certain questions, being agreeable to avoid conflict or even violence, or even silence after your perspective is shut down. My compromise was done to avoid being labeled as disagreeable, so I got to a point where I said nothing, because I realized that nothing I said would make my partner view what I had to say as valuable. In those situations, I felt like more of an accessory rather than a true equal or partner.
Fortunately, my years in therapy and my own life experiences have taught me that my voice matters, and it is important. My thoughts and feeling are valuable. I add value to a conversation and if my social interactions are any indication, they show that I am an excellent conversationalist. I bring thoughtfulness, empathy and compassion, and I’m funny as hell. That should never be silenced.
If my questions made those partners uncomfortable, let them be uncomfortable. I will not be silenced. I am learning to no longer emotionally repress, emotionally avoid and internalize anger to give some else peace while I self destruct. I will speak up and live Out Loud. The woman I am now is stronger and she will not be silenced.
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