Discovering The Power Of Silence
I used to be a Space Filler.
The one who noticed any lapse in conversation and rushed in to fix it. Awkward silence felt as scary to me as rejection. So preventing it was crucial.
The gears furiously cranked inside my mind, thinking up the next question, scanning their faces for clues to their thoughts, and shifting myself accordingly.
No one gave me this job, the one that requires me to ensure everyone else’s comfort.
But fulfilling that duty felt like an innate responsibility. And I was good. I appeared vibrant and charming, masterfully cultivating conversation. An expert Space Filler, if you will.
But the more space I filled out there, the less I had within myself.
In order to facilitate their experience, it meant completely ignoring mine. When it was all over, I would realize I had been floating above my body instead of existing in it. And once I came to, I would crash from the exhaustion of the job.
But they liked me. Well, this curated version of me at least.
Years ago, I started spending time with two women who don’t fill the space. They linger in it. I would squirm and pick at my cuticles under the table, and then assume my usual role, grasping for scraps to fill the silence.
It was not vibrant or charming.
The more time I spent with them, the more I understood that they felt comfortable with silence, relished in it even.
They seemed to find it an invitation to slow down, take a breath, check in with themselves. So I felt like I had permission to do the same.
Our conversations became meaningful, our bond grew deeper. The silence began to feel less threatening and more intimate. I left feeling grounded and rejuvenated rather than anxious and frazzled.
I learned that it was okay to let go of a job that was never meant for me in the first place.
Sometimes I still find silence awkward. And when I linger in the empty space instead of scrambling to fill it, I wonder if people find me boring or aloof. My close friends and family likely notice a shift in the dynamic and wonder if I’m okay without the sparkly mask I had worn for so long.
And maybe of all that is true. But what I know to be true is that all that space I used to fill is mine again. I feel it in my body. The expansion, the calm, the rootedness. I know now that I am responsible for my experience, not theirs. And I like this experience a lot more.
I’m no longer a Space Filler. I’m just me.
Do you find yourself prioritizing everyone else’s experience above your own? I’m here to help!