Part of the "Unlearning Silence" series on voice, survival, and speaking up anyway.
You whispered once.
Posted once.
Spoke up once.
Tried once.
And you were punished for it.
Not directly, maybe.
But the message was clear.
A friend pulled you aside —
“Just a heads up, some folks thought that was a little much.”
A relative replied with a tight-lipped “Hmm.”
A coworker “just wanted to offer some feedback” that left your stomach in knots.
No one liked the post.
Or worse: only one person did — and now you feel exposed.
Your brain took that tiny signal — a frown, a pause, a silence —
and turned it into a verdict:
You messed up.
You shouldn’t have said anything at all.
We all learned this.
In classrooms where the loud girls were called bossy.
In families where anger was terrifying and silence was survival.
In jobs where honesty meant losing your shot.
In churches where doubt meant shame.
In friendships where grief made you a burden.
You said the wrong thing once,
and it felt like exile.
So now, even when you know what you believe — even when you burn with it —
you second-guess every word.
You don’t want to post about politics too much.
You don’t want to be that person in the group chat.
You don’t want to be annoying.
You just want to be safe.
You are so careful.
You write the caption four times.
You delete the comment you wanted to leave.
You explain yourself too much — or not at all.
You wait for someone else to go first.
You share other people’s words with a caption that says “this.”
Because saying it yourself?
That feels dangerous.
But fascism thrives on silence.
It doesn’t care that you meant well.
It doesn’t care that you were trying.
It doesn’t care that you thought one whisper was enough.
If we only whisper, it wins.
Repetition isn’t just marketing — it’s a survival strategy.
It’s how we build power.
It’s how we get free.
We can’t out-care our way through this.
We can’t “good-intention” our way out of erasure.
We can’t let fear of being “too much” stop us from being heard at all.
So yes — your voice might shake.
Yes — you’ll get it wrong sometimes.
Yes — someone will misunderstand you.
Say it anyway.
Say it again.
Say it louder.
Say it in a way that feels like resistance
to the version of you who once stayed small to stay safe.
Because when you do, you’re not just repeating yourself.
You’re building an echo.
You’re making it easier for someone else to speak.
You’re unlearning silence.
One trembling post at a time.
Today’s Assignment:
Write down the moment you first remember being told you were “too much.”
Then write down something you’re scared to say — and say it anyway.
Even a whisper counts.
But let it be your own.
~AK