There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. (Maya Angelou)
Just last week I was trying to find a way to express this pain, and Maya Angelou said it for me. It was a serendipitous discovery, while looking for her exact wording on believing people when they tell you who they are.
I guess there are things I will never say. Some, to specific people like my kids, husband, or friends. Other thoughts, feelings, and events would be to the world in general. While Angelou is completely correct about the agony of that, my filters tell me I’m not up for the intense emotion required of me to actually have these discussions and deal in turn with the emotions, or worse: the lack of others’ emotions, that telling my truth may cause.
I don’t have any delusions that I am some great mystic or prophet. I know those in my sphere will live their lives without any grand illumination from me. Actually, I know my untold story has no grand illumination at all, for anyone. Maybe not even me.
And yet, biting my tongue gets really old.