Unsaid Things


We turn our unsaid things into our life's work. 

This short sentence has echoed in my mind the last few weeks. It's from How to Build a Girl by Caitlin Moran, a book that has been inspiring me quite a bit. The main character talks about how she feels that her unrequited love has impacted her life; that everything she has done has been inspired by someone that doesn't feel the same way about her. 

I'm the Queen of unsaid things. I fear that what I am trying to say won't be interpreted properly, which is horrible for a girl that has far too much to say for herself. (Which is a thing my mother has been saying to me since I was 8 and full of sass) The fear probably stems from giving the wrong answer in class and feeling ashamed. And for all the other times the things I've said have recieved scoffs and eye rolls. It all comes down to the fear of being open and vulnerable and saying what is actually going on in my mind. I remember my mother saying that you forget a lot of things when you age, but you never forget words. Our words carry weight. They can be hurtful or they can be helpful. They can be words of love or words of hate. It's incredibly important to me that my words are only words of love, but I fear that sometimes the words I say out-loud can get mixed up. Writing them down where they can be edited and rewritten and reviewed is much more comforting. Writing is my comfort.

But there are still all of those moments where all of the unsaid things still live; lingering around my mind like a ghost. 

Like the time a friendship ended over a horrible situation that I couldn't bring myself to speak about while it was happening in fear of seeming too sensitive and too uptight. Or when I didn't speak up to the boy that was supposed to be my date to prom and things fell through. When I was being bullied for having short hair. Or when the truth was right in front of my face but I was too afraid of change to call the person out on it and pretended everything was fine instead, only to have my heart broken a few weeks later. Not speaking to someone for a few years because I didn't know how to start talking to them again after a stupid argument. When I was being hurt. When people were being insensitive. The times when I was being made uncomfortable on purpose for a few laughs. All of the I Love You's that will forever be unsaid. When I should've been more vocal about being treated poorly, instead of letting people walk all over me. All of the times I should've said get lost instead of faking a smile.

So many moments and messes that I should've been more vocal. Do I regret not speaking up? Sometimes. I do think about the what if's sometimes. All of these things I'm dwelling on are from different moments in my life; moments when I was a different person. I've been multiple people throughout my 22 years of life and I've been through a bunch of messes. And these are the messes that I've lived through and they are messes I'll probably be writing about for a long time, because.. we turn our unsaid things into our life's work. I used to stress about how I may be writing about a specific person or moment or thing for a long time. Now I just see it as my way of speaking up when I didn't in the past.

I've come to the realization that there will forever be a part of me that I can only write about. Whether that's in essays or notes in a journal. There are things in my mind that I feel more comfortable writing about than speaking them out-loud, and that's okay. I don't need to be yelling things in a megaphone for the world to hear. But I know if I want to, I can. I have the power to.

I'm just a mess of a girl; a mess of jumbled thoughts, of mixed up words, of unsaid things. 

And I'm totally okay with that.

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