See-through

It is so difficult to speak when you’ve lived a life of transparency.  A life where your voice is quieted, covered, tucked, and sheltered. Where it appears that the voices of others have greater impact than your own.  Where your’s is not only quieter, but also the words that come out of it are of lesser value.

We do care. We promise. Just not right now. Hush now, my baby.

It is hard to speak when people choose not to see you.  It is hard to grasp this idea when people spoon-feed bravery to a person. ‘You’re strong’, ‘you’re brave’ cause this idea of a meaningless voice to teeter and topple.  Wouldn’t a bold human also carry a bold voice. Or perhaps she does. Perhaps her voice is so bold people don’t hear it. Perhaps it is bold enough to scare people into holes, to blanket discomfort, to cause others to feel shady.  Perhaps people who are see-through, who believe they do not matter, actually grow to become the ones who are seen the most thoroughly. Yet, that’s the scariest part, the origination of the feeling itself. The creation of human holes led by disbelief and fear.  Uncovered circumstances so quickly re-covered by the same dirt that held them silent.

People don’t like humans who speak to issues that cause stomach twisting. People look through them, at them even, gently carrying them to a hard, cold, metal chair found in a room that no one wants to dust. We’ll get you some water. Are you comfortable? Okay, good.  Their files are burned and no one calls them back. And the see-through scream until someone chooses to listen.