The Weight of Unspoken Words: The Power of Speaking Up

Why I stopped staying silent and started honouring what I really feel.

Hello, I’m Jenn, and if you’re new here, welcome to Naturally Healing. In this space I explore mindful slow living for wellbeing, the power of nature to help us heal, and the importance of showing up as our authentic selves. Here, you’ll find honest reflections, personal stories, and a reminder to prioritise what truly matters—our health, our peace, and the way we live each day. I post twice a week: Tuesday is all about Authenticity Unfiltered, where we dive into honest, real conversations about living authentically, embracing imperfections, and showing up as our true selves. Fridays are our Wellness Edit, where we explore all things related to healing and wellness, with a special focus on the power of nature. Thanks for reading 🤎

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There’s something I’ve learned the hard way. When I don’t speak up, when I swallow my truth to keep the peace, it doesn’t just disappear. It lodges itself somewhere deep inside me. In my chest. In my gut. In the tightness of my jaw or the heaviness behind my eyes.

It becomes something almost tangible, like an emotional knot that refuses to loosen until I finally let the words out. It’s as if the unresolved issue becomes a cloud in my mind, blocking clarity and peace. It’s not just an internal struggle. It affects my relationships and how I engage with the world around me. When I finally speak up, it’s like releasing pressure from a balloon. The discomfort I’ve been carrying begins to dissolve, and I can breathe again. I can think clearly again.

That’s the power of using your voice.

For a long time, I didn’t speak up. I tiptoed around things that hurt or frustrated me. I smiled through discomfort, said I was fine when I wasn’t, and convinced myself that staying quiet was the noble thing to do. That not rocking the boat somehow made me a better person.

Spoiler alert. It didn’t.

It made me exhausted. Resentful. Disconnected from myself.

And the worst part? It didn’t actually protect anyone. Because while I was trying to keep everyone else comfortable, I was making myself deeply uncomfortable. And eventually, that catches up with you.

Now, I’ve made a quiet promise to myself. I will speak up.

Even if it makes someone uncomfortable. Even if my voice shakes. Even if what I say is hard to hear.

Because honesty matters. And not just the polished, palatable kind. I mean the raw, honest truth that bubbles up when something doesn’t sit right. The kind that says, “Actually, this does bother me,” or “That’s not okay with me,” or simply, “Here’s how I really feel.”

For me, it’s not about being outspoken for the sake of it. It’s about staying true to myself and respecting my own needs. The more I honour my own truth, the more I trust myself. I’ve learned that honesty doesn’t always mean being blunt or confrontational. It means being clear, being authentic, and respecting both myself and others. I’ve learned to speak up with compassion and kindness, even when it’s hard. It’s about honouring myself enough to say, “This matters.” And letting that be enough.

It took me years to get here. Years of second-guessing myself, of telling little lies to keep the peace, of brushing things off that actually left bruises. I used to worry so much about being seen as too much or too sensitive that I let myself shrink.

But not anymore.

Now, I see using my voice as an act of self-respect. A way of saying to myself, “You’re allowed to take up space. Your feelings are valid. Your truth is worth hearing.”

It’s still a work in progress. It takes time to feel comfortable expressing difficult emotions without fear of judgment or rejection. But I no longer want to carry the weight of things that are bothering me. I know that if I don’t speak up, it’s only going to get worse, and the issue will take up even more space in my mind and body.

And yes, sometimes that truth makes people uncomfortable. That’s okay. Discomfort can be a catalyst for change. For growth. For better understanding. I’m not here to make people squirm but I’m also not here to lie about who I am.

Some people will get it. Some won’t. That’s not mine to carry.

I’ve learned that authenticity isn’t always easy. It’s not always well-received. But it’s freeing. It’s clarifying. And, most importantly, it’s sustainable. I no longer have to remember which version of myself I presented to whom. I just get to be me.

Unfiltered. Honest. Sometimes messy. Always real.

So if you’re someone who finds it hard to speak up, I see you. I’ve been you. It takes time to unlearn the habit of silence. To stop cushioning your truth in softness or watering it down so it’s easier to digest. But you get to say what’s on your mind. You get to tell the truth of your experience. You get to release what’s been building up inside you.

Not just for others, but for yourself.

Because here’s the thing. When we keep swallowing our emotions, they don’t just dissolve. They stay with us. They shape us. And often, they make us sick. Not just emotionally, but physically. Stress becomes tension. Anger becomes fatigue. Sadness becomes isolation.

But when we let it out, when we write it down, say it out loud, or simply acknowledge it, we create space. We create freedom. We invite in healing.

So yes, speaking up is hard. But silence can be harder.

I’ve chosen my hard.

I’ll take the temporary discomfort of honesty over the long-term ache of holding everything in. I’d rather ruffle a few feathers than sit quietly in a cage I built myself.

Because after all these years, I’ve realised something important.

My peace is non-negotiable. And my voice is mine to use.

Thank you for reading.

Take care,

Jenn x