The quiet didn’t break me — it rebuilt me strong
I remember the day the tears came out of nowhere without any reason, specifically. I used to hide in the washroom at work if tears were about to run down my cheeks. I was sitting at my desk, the noise of my own thoughts louder than any song played on those loudspeakers. And yet, the world around me seemed quiet. There were sleepless nights. I used to keep a pen and a Post-it note under my pillow so that I could write down once I figured out what was bothering me. That stillness was the beginning of something I didn’t expect. Pretending to be happy got difficult day by day.
For years, I filled every empty moment with noise — gym, boxing classes, dance classes, calls, playlists, social scrolls. Silence was something I feared. What if my mind had nothing good to say? What if I collapsed under the weight of unspoken truths? So I ran from pillar to post to get away from silence, from stillness, from what I was becoming.
Until one evening, I didn’t. The phone was put on do-not-disturb. The background music stopped. I sat quietly. And I cried inconsolably. The kind of cry without words. No “why me”, no blame, no catalogue of regrets. Just tears. The old me would’ve edited every one of them. This time, I let them fall when no one is watching me. I felt liberated to get rid of this sickness once and for all.
In the quiet that followed, I heard something unexpected: a whisper of relief. I realised I didn’t need to fix myself in that moment. I simply needed to listen. I let go of all the baggage I hid under my fake smile. At last, I could not lie to myself or pretend that everything was fine in life. The silence didn’t judge. The silence didn’t demand. And in that space, something inside me loosened. That was the turning point of a breakthrough in my life, a personal goal pursuit. All the ifs and buts disappeared, and I wanted to get better as there was no more deep end that I’d not been in.
Silence let me hear my own truth — not the version I told others, but the version I hid. Compassion arrived through silence. I stopped beating myself for all my mistakes, wrongdoings, making a mess and began whispering, “It’s okay, you’re hurting.” Creativity stirred. It’s funny how the mind thinks it needs distraction to create — until you sit still and a thought rises anyway. Connection deepened. Because I had become comfortable with my own company, I stopped fearing being alone, and I started choosing to be with people who mirrored my quiet.
A few weeks later, I was in a coffee shop, writing. Not because I needed to produce or prove something, but because I wanted to feel the words. A friendly stranger glanced at my draft on the screen and asked, “Are you a writer?” For a second, I hesitated. Then I said: “Yes. And today I’m writing the part of me that got lost in the noise.” That felt different. Because I wasn’t seeking an audience. I was speaking to the self I had been too busy ignoring. The only reason I write is to come back another day to just see how much I have learned and made progress. I can reflect on my life on how good/bad/ugly I was at life to how good/bad/ugly I am at life, the very moment. So these moments might make me feel vulnerable, but eventually, once I learnt to face my own fears and doubts, yet stood tall and was self-taught in handling the rush of all my emotions. Never ashamed, but always proud.
How can you step into your own silence?
- Schedule five minutes of real quiet today. No phone, no music, no To-Do list. Sit, breathe, observe.
- Let tears come if they will. You’re not broken — you’re human.
- Ask a simple question: “What do I need right now?” Then wait for the answer.
- Write or speak that answer aloud. Even one sentence is enough.
- Repeat this weekly. Silence becomes not a trial, but a refuge.
In a hyper-connected world, our greatest act of rebellion might be unplugging. By embracing silence, we don’t become invisible — we become visible to ourselves. And when we see ourselves clearly, we show up more fully in the world.
If you found this and felt something shift in you — drop a comment, highlight the line that touched you most, and consider following for more stories of growth, healing & quiet transformation.
Hi, I’m Prathima 😊. I write about mindful living, running🏃♀️, cooking🍳, and turning everyday routines into moments of happiness ✨.
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