How I Protect My Sanctuary in a World of Silence
Finding Liberation Through the Power of Words and Strategic Silence
Preserving Freedom Within
I often feel the tightening grip of a modern straightjacket. Whether I am navigating a hyper-monitored workplace or watching global political figures operate from a blueprint of self-interest, the pressure to conform can feel overwhelming. I encounter bullies and heartless systems, and while everything inside me screams to stand up and tell them a thing or two, I choose to restrain myself. It is a painful and frustrating reality, but I have learned that sharing my raw truths publicly can sometimes be deeply detrimental.
As I grow older, the old sayings from my Jamaican village that I once dismissed as nonsense have become my armor. I remind myself to "eat some and keep some" and that "not everything that is good to eat is good to talk." I know that malicious minds exist in our society, and I respect the ancient wisdom that "coward man keeps sound bones." For me, silence is not weakness; it is a strategic shield.
When the rules of society threaten to shackle my spirit and cause genuine internal damage, I turn to my personal medicine: writing. For my own peace and mental well-being, writing represents absolute freedom. It relieves the pressure of the straitjacket without causing malice or harm to anyone else.
I never trust my private thoughts to digital devices that may be monitored. Instead, I pick up a real pen and feel the friction of ink moving across paper. When the weight becomes too heavy, I turn to my personal rituals of release and cleansing.
In some moments, I write it, read it, rip it, and toss it to the wind. But when I need absolute certainty, I use my most powerful method: I write it, read it, rip it, and burn it. Watching the fire transform my unspoken words into untraceable ash gives me an undeniable sense of relief and closure.
This protective boundary is something I must extend to my closest personal spaces as well. While society often teaches us that matrimony is the ultimate goal, I have realized that without careful consideration and self-awareness, marriage can become its own trap—a personal prison where my individuality could slowly be exchanged for the expectations attached to vows.
I refuse to let silence break me. By anchoring my reality in physical notes and fiercely protecting my personal life, I preserve my peace and sanity. Systems may restrict my external environment, but they can never cage my mind.
I will keep writing.
I will keep questioning.
And I will remain unbound.
