Silenced No More: Finding the Words We Were Never Allowed to Speak

Point A

Keeping my feelings buried about being adopted was a lifelong agony. I always wanted to ask questions, to know more about my origins, but I silenced myself. I thought protecting my adoptive family’s feelings mattered more than protecting my own.

After reunion, that silence finally cracked open. I could finally ask the questions, hear the stories, and fill in the gaps of my life. Those conversations — often late into the night — are some of my most cherished memories.

I will never again let silence steal my voice. My story matters. My truth matters. And I will speak it, not just for myself, but for others who are still silenced.

Point B

For decades, silence was not just expected of me — it was demanded. To speak openly about my loss, my grief, or even my truth was to invite judgment and shame. I was told it was “better left in the past.” But silence is never neutral; it festers. It grows heavier with each year.

I regret all the words I never said, the letters I never wrote, the truths I never spoke aloud. They haunt me even more than the memories themselves. Silence protected no one. Instead, it imprisoned me.

Now, I understand that my voice is the only way forward. Speaking my truth is not betrayal — it’s survival.

Image Descriptions (Alt Text)

1. Image 1 (Mitch Albom quote on moonlit sky): A full moon shines through dark clouds. White text reads: “Nothing haunts us like the things we don’t say.” — Mitch Albom. Bottom corner has the With No Direction logo.

2. Image 2 (Paper airplanes with dotted flight paths): A doodle-style illustration of paper airplanes with small hearts on them, flying across the page. Text reads: “I sent you letters in my dreams. Did you get them?”