‘There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.’
I lived around the block from the cute boy in second grade with bright, sparkling blue eyes. He was super fun and over the years we became fantastic friends. You could find him at my house on any random day eating bowls of cereal from my pantry because my mom bought the “good kind.” As we got older we hung out in my front yard with our group, smoking cigarettes, dancing to the truck radio and staring at stars while we all lay in my driveway at 2am.
He had an older brother who wasn’t much like him and his parents were cordial and kind. His dad was a huge man with a bushy, Duck Dynasty-like beard. My friend often told me how much he hated his dad. I didn’t really know the feeling since I didn’t have a father. But we danced anyway, we smoked, we counted stars.
It wasn’t until years later that I found out that his dad hit him… pretty hard… pretty often. It wasn’t until we lost our friendship and moved on that I found out my friend’s silent story.
I had my own secrets. I’m sure everyone wondered why I was jealous and geeky. Or why I wore the same jeans everyday. Or why I was an outcast who skipped school and eventually dropped out. I’m currently working on a book that will reveal all the shame I lived in –shame covered in addiction and domestic violence. Soon my own silenced story will be revealed.
I think of all of this now, today, this month. It’s child abuse awareness month.
Kids all over the community, in every zip code, every single neighborhood–even yours- have secret stories. Their stories affect their desire to fit in, their need to bully, their feelings of not being enough. And my guess is that you have a secret story too –a story that people just may not believe. A secret that doesn’t even begin to align with the person the world thought you were. A story that affects your desire to fit in, or your feeling of not being enough.
I wonder sometimes about the other kids I grew up with.
Why did they cry to sleep at night?
What were they trying to hide from their friends?
What did they need that they never got from the ones that were suppose to care for them?
Now that I have gained knowledge and a pinky-full of wisdom, I know that lots of them covered up their pain just to make it through, just like me. I couldn’t have been the only one.
I’m sure you have you have a story to tell, and I’m inviting you to tell it.
So, tell me your story.
Write it, and send it to me.
Tell me who everyone thought you were and what your secret struggle was.
Get it off your chest.
Share your shame.
Share all that you were afraid to tell when you were a kid.
Send me your silenced story.
One line, one paragraph, a million pages. Whatever it takes.
And if you send me your story, I can make you a few promises:
- I promise to keep them confidential.
- I promise to not judge you.
- I promise to weep with you.
- I promise to pray for you.
Email them to: SilencedStories@yahoo.com
Let God heal you…
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3