I Like Listeningā¦ But I Wish I Felt Heard Too
Thereās a kind of loneliness that doesnāt always look lonely.
It looks like listening. Like nodding along, showing up, asking questions, remembering the little things. It looks like caring ā and I do care. I care deeply when people talk about things they love. Even when I donāt understand it, I stay. I ask. I try. Because their excitement means something to me.
But when itās me?
When I finally decide to share something ā something Iām excited about, something Iāve been holding onto, waiting for the right moment ā theyāre not really there. They zone out. Cut in. Change the topic. Even if itās something I know theyāre intoā¦ they just donāt listen.
And thatās the part that hurts the most. Not just that they donāt care about the topic ā but that they donāt care itās me talking.
So I start holding it in. Not because I want to, but because it feels safer than the silence that follows when I speak.
I think thatās the part people donāt see. They see someone quiet and think Iām just shy or distant. But the truth isā¦ Iāve just been made to feel like my voice is background noise.
And itās not just talking. Itās crept into my writing too ā which used to be my space, my outlet. I used to pour myself onto the page like it was the only place I was allowed to be loud.
Nowā¦ I donāt write much. I read. I scroll. I stay quiet.
Because even the blank page started to feel like a room I wasnāt invited to speak in.
Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like ā to be really heard.
Not out of politeness. Not just when itās convenient.
But fully. Genuinely. Like someone wants to understand, not just respond.
Thereās so much Iāve never said. Not because I didnāt want toā¦ but because I never believed anyone would stay long enough to listen.
So if youāre still here ā if you made it this far ā thank you.
You might not know it, but you just did something rare.
You stayed.
And maybe thatās all I ever really needed.
And if youāve ever felt this way tooā¦
Youāre not alone. Not in this.
Sincerely,
someone who listens a little too much and speaks a little too quietly
P.S. Ugh. I still feel like I didnāt quite find the right words.
Like I was circling something deeper ā something I feel so strongly but still canāt explain.
Some feelings just donāt fit into neat sentences.
They sit there, heavy and tangled, waiting for someone to understand the parts I couldnāt say out loud.
Anyway, sorry about the grammar and everything. Still improving my Englishš©
