Making the world uncomfortable since 1977.

From a very young age, I learned to stay quiet. I grew up afraid to say what I felt, what I was passionate about, or what I truly liked, because I was taught not to make others uncomfortable, even if that meant I would be uncomfortable myself. I learned to protect everyone else’s peace, even if it cost me my own.

When we hear phrases like “you look prettier when you’re quiet” or “when adults are talking, you stay silent,” we start to believe, mistakenly, that expressing ourselves when we think or feel differently from others will only make people uncomfortable. That belief follows us into our present and future relationships in harmful ways, because staying silent then becomes the “wise” choice for those of us who have so much to say but settle for being what others want us to be: obedient, but not thoughtful.

And that was me. I’m still carrying the consequences of that silence.

I am a creative person, and I could talk for hours about countless topics to entertain, to learn, to philosophize, to inspire, to support, and to laugh until my stomach hurts. I’ve always been like that. But being the daughter of a pastor who, for many years, faced harsh criticism for his passion for public service (politics), and having a mother with extraordinary and rebellious thoughts, who was also silenced by that same comfortable discomfort, left me no choice but to learn, like them, to stay quiet.

I also learned to find the perfect and “safe” moment to say something “appropriate,” even if it wasn’t my whole truth. That taught me to fear speaking up at school because I might be wrong and punished for it. It taught me to stay silent when I was sexually abused, because I had been warned: that is uncomfortable to hear. It also taught me to adapt my behavior to the environment around me, so if I was with surfers, the ocean became my home; if I was surrounded by scholars, books became my passion; with troubadours, I was Silvio Rodríguez’s long-lost daughter; and let’s not even start with punk, religion, or politics. I became a chameleon for one simple reason: not to make others uncomfortable.

I graduated as a lawyer, but my way of dressing and my big, curly hair made others uncomfortable, so I went for straight hair with bangs, dresses, blazers, and 12cm heels. But I stayed silent.

I had toxic relationships where I was beaten and verbally abused. But I stayed silent.

I got married, but my ideas about sharing healthy roles and responsibilities inside and outside the home made others uncomfortable, so I chose a false submission that went against my own values. But I stayed silent.

I was harassed at work to the point of being unjustly fired. But I stayed silent.

I experienced violence inside the church, pastors and leaders abused their power to make me feel unworthy before God, to the point where I abandoned church altogether. But I stayed silent.

I went through so many situations where staying silent felt easier than making myself heard because I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. But… uncomfortable for who? I didn’t make uncomfortable those who truly didn’t value my voice or my emotions, those who didn’t care about my reality so they could keep living their idealized world full of false positivity (toxic positivity) where my tears were dried and I was handed an ice cream to forget what made me cry in the first place. That’s how emotions are invalidated, how you teach yourself to sweep pain under the rug and keep walking as if nothing happened, all while smiling when you don’t even want to.

I understand the importance and power of silence; in many situations, it is healthy. But that’s not the kind of silence I’m talking about. I’m talking about the silence that makes you mute in the face of injustice; the silence you keep in that work meeting when you have an amazing idea but feel it’s stupid at the same time; the silence that keeps you in a relationship you know is going nowhere; the silence when others try to tell you how to raise your own children; the silence that makes you speechless before a church that doesn’t value or believe in your leadership because you’re a woman; or blind and mute when you see a person hitting or insulting their child, spouse or partner.

They, the toxic society, made us silent.
They made us mute.
All to keep from making anyone uncomfortable.

When I realized all of this, I made the most uncomfortable decision of my life: to make others uncomfortable.

I began the journey of getting to know myself, of understanding what it truly means to be ME, to speak when I need to speak, even if my voice shakes, and to stop invalidating my emotions. Every single one of them is a beautiful collection of sensations that have shaped me and continue to help me grow to live tropicaliciously.

I don’t want to live in the world of masks I was taught to idolize as “perfect,” where you have to stay 100% positive. Because when I think about the grief I’m walking through, I don’t want to laugh it off, I want to give it its place so I can heal. When I get angry, I want to understand the root of why I feel that way so I can heal even as my face shows you I’m upset. Every emotion was placed within us so we could feel it. There are no “good” or “bad” emotions they are all necessary. As necessary as the voice we give them.

I don’t want to stay silent anymore. I want to be heard, and I want to listen. I don’t want to dim my light, I want to ignite everything around me. Because choosing silence might feel easier when you’re trying to please everyone else, but it won’t be easier for you. You’ll end up lost among the opinions of others, and you’ll rob the world of the gift of seeing who you really are.

How much have you stayed silent? I want to hear your story. Can you see a part of my story in yours? Let’s talk about it. Don’t stay silent any longer, ignite the world in every way you can.