It whispers deep inside. A silent voice that taunts and teases. A silent voice that whispers louder and louder as the night wears on. Tears are close but refuse to fall, making the silent lies even louder. The inner monologue train.
Everyone was busy. All friends busy with their own lives, their own families. I’m home alone and so the whispers have a place to echo and rebound. My heart hurts. It’s easy to believe the lies of not being important, of being alone, unloved, unwanted. They go along with an emptiness and ache within me. Wanting to be seen, to be loved to be valued.
The hardest part is, sometimes the whispers and the ache are there even when people are around. Watching them with their families, a sense of something like envy seeps into my heart. Not quite envy – a sadness that I don’t have a family unit of my own.
My singleness means doing many things alone. Holidays, outings, events, sickness, success – they’re all done alone. I do have people around, good friends. But the sense of not wanting to burden people with my existence often outweighs the choice to seek companionship. My own lack of self esteem, of self acceptance, self worth – it is what creates the loneliness. Longing to belong but not wanting to intrude.
And so life is done alone. Mostly.
I have great friends. I have a place in this world. I do have family. I am loved. My own walls of self rejection are beginning to crack. Each day I see changes. A new awareness of my value in this world and in people’s lives is beginning to grow.
I do exist. I am seen. I am heard.
I am loved.
I am beloved.