There comes a moment in every childhood
when silence becomes a shield.
Not because the child is guilty,
but because the truth feels too heavy for adults to carry.
And so the smallest heart in the room
becomes the one holding the heaviest weight.
Mirror of Shame
When They Said It Was My Fault
For every child who stayed silent to protect the adults.
For every truth that had to hide inside the heart.
They told you it was your fault.
Not always with words —
but with sighs, with looks,
with the kind of silence
that makes a child feel responsible
for the storm in the room.
You learned to swallow your feelings
before you learned to read.
You apologized for things
your hands never touched.
You carried guilt
that had someone else’s name on it.
But listen:
shame is not born inside a child.
It is placed there.
Gently or violently —
it does not matter.
A heart that small
believes everything it’s given.
To the child inside you:
you did not cause what happened.
You were never the reason
for the breaking of the room.
You do not have to be afraid
of the thought that “it was my fault”.
It wasn’t.
You are allowed to tell the truth —
even now,
even if your voice shakes,
even if no one believed you then.
Your truth is not dangerous.
Your truth is not a crime.
Your truth is a way home.
If you are afraid that speaking the truth will break everything again —
remember: it was never you who broke it.
A quiet place for your truth
Think of a moment when you stayed silent to protect someone else — or to keep the peace.
Where did that silence land in your body? In your throat, your chest, your stomach?
If you are afraid that speaking the truth will break everything again — remember: it was never you who broke it.
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