Silence….there’s a saying that “Silence is Golden”. When I was younger, I despised hearing that because in being silent in those times, silence meant feeling on edge and, feeling fearful. Silence in my younger years meant literally waiting for the next shoe to drop, it meant that if people were silent around you, there was something wrong.

It meant being uncomfortable and feeling uncomfortable meant I felt distress on the inside, but I couldn’t do anything to let the distress out, for fear of reprisal. I turned my distress into avenues of self-harm- eating disorders-anorexia nervosa because to not eat meant I was controlling the situation around me or cutting myself because at least the hurt I was feeling could be seen on the outside. I would also act out by running away. It wasn’t until I was in my mid to late thirties, that I learned about the beauty in liking silence.

Liking silence or learning to like silence is a journey, much like being a part of your healing journey. Learning to appreciate silence meant that I had to welcome the very act of silence around me in bits and pieces. First, I would start with maybe five or ten minutes of not doing anything/or playing music or having my television on. At first, when I introduced those moments into my life, I wanted to end that silence, let myself scream, blast some music, or turn my television on. It made me feel uncomfortable and gave me the heebie jeebies. But, gradually, with help in therapy, I learned that there is a beauty in liking silence. I first learned that when I would go visit my friend on Georgina Island. I’d be walking by the water, and the only thing I could hear was the quiet lapping of the water, or the occasional bird that was in flight around me. I would drink that silence in because it was definitely something I cannot experience in the city.

Sometimes, while on Georgina Island, I would stand at the water’s edge, and just take in the beauty of nibi (water). I began to slowly learn that if you took just a few seconds a day to appreciate silence around you, it would eventually grow on you. It became something I grew more comfortable with. Try it… for a couple of minutes a day. Try to turn off your music for a couple of minutes, or your television, or whatever your guilty pleasure may be (to avoid sound). In those moments that you try to take in the silence around you, ask yourself, what is it about silence that you don’t like?

While reflecting, try to write down what you experienced while trying to incorporate a few moments of silence, ask yourself every possible question you can. What made it uncomfortable? Was there anything comfortable in experiencing silence? Not everyone likes silence. I totally understand that I mean I used to despise it with every fiber of my being! Silence to some people can be seen as a threat because innately they have come to believe that silence is somehow bad. But silence isn’t bad. As a child you may have been taught that staying silent was the better avenue to take, but for me personally I have learned that staying silent kept the pain and hurt I was feeling inside me, and that was not safe for me at all.

As I am writing this, I have no television or music playing, the only noise I hear is the occasional sound from outside my front door, the sound of my fingers hitting the keyboard or my cats rustling around trying to get comfortable so that they can steal my bed tonight!

Silence… There is a beauty in liking silence. I welcome it now, especially at the end of a workday. I have learned to embrace silence for what it is and what it can offer- it shows strength and can offer you comfort, and as a trauma survivor, that is the most important thing to me. Giving myself silence also allows me to regroup, gather my thoughts and get ready for the next day.