The Truth That Lies Beneath

What silence placed gently before me

Some things in life are difficult to place neatly into words.

Certain thoughts seem to sit quietly within us for years, almost like unopened letters left in forgotten drawers, patiently waiting for a moment when we are finally ready enough, or perhaps still enough, to unfold them and read what was there all along. They feel deeply personal at first, so personal that one wonders whether they belong only to you, or whether they are thoughts carried silently by many others too, hidden beneath smiles, routines and ordinary days.

I have found myself sitting alone with myself recently and trying to face things which perhaps I avoided for many years. Sitting with a silence which at times felt deeply uncomfortable and with thoughts that I had perhaps kept myself busy enough not to fully look at. There is a strange uneasiness that arrives when one sits quietly for long enough, because silence has a curious way of placing things gently before us which noise often allows us to avoid.

There have been a few reasons why I have taken time away and, as many of you know, I followed my intuition and stepped back when I felt that I needed to. Looking back now, however, I realise that perhaps what I thought was simply time away was something much deeper than that.

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash.

I have become very familiar with this feeling recently, where life itself seemed almost to press pause and where, if I am being truthful, I felt I had very little choice in the matter. There are moments which seem to stop one in their tracks altogether, leaving one sitting almost as an observer of their own life for a while, watching events unfold and trying to understand not only what is happening around them but also what is happening quietly within them.

Part of stepping away came through situations in my own life where I simply felt that I needed time. Part of it also came through the very uncomfortable realisation that pieces of my own work had been taken by another. Even writing those words still feels strange because what unsettled me most was not simply the action itself, but the realisation that another person could do something like that and seemingly carry no discomfort around it, no uneasiness and no visible guilt.

Such things have a way of making one sit very quietly afterwards.

Not simply questioning the actions of others.

Questioning people.

Questioning trust.

Questioning whether one truly saw things as they were.

Looking back now, I wonder whether part of me always knew.

Perhaps that is where one of the more difficult truths begins.

One of the greatest awakenings for me has been understanding that not everybody has your best interests at heart.

Even writing those words still feels uncomfortable.

Photo by Keenan Constance on Unsplash

There are people whom we place gently into safe places in our minds. Family. Friendships. People we believe are standing beside us. People we assume are quietly wishing us well.

I know I always wanted to believe the very best in people.

Perhaps that is why one particular friendship has stayed with me so deeply.

There was somebody I once considered one of my closest friends. Looking back now feels rather like looking at an old photograph and suddenly noticing something in the background which had somehow gone unseen all along.

Excuses were made as to why I was not included in important milestones in her life. Reasons were given as to why I should not stand beside her in photographs. At the time I accepted those explanations completely. Shyness, I was told.

Looking back now, I realise it was not shyness at all.

Others later spoke of a much deeper envy, of stories and rumours which had quietly travelled behind my back, of things being said that I knew nothing about at the time.

There are moments when I still sit with a sense of embarrassment, almost ashamed that I somehow fell into a web of untruths so carefully and artfully spun around me that I did not see them for what they were.

Naive, some may say.

Looking back, I no longer think that is true.

I think it was something far more human than that.

I think it was simply failing to realise that even people closest to us can sometimes show us sides of themselves capable of blowing every previous opinion we held of them clean out of the window.

I struggled for quite some time asking myself how I allowed it to happen.

Self-compassion has become important here.

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My grandmother once said to me that when somebody repeatedly speaks negatively to you about another person, there is a very high chance they are speaking in exactly the same way about you when you leave the room.

Those words return to me often now.

Grandmothers seem to leave behind little pieces of wisdom that arrive years later and quietly sit beside us at exactly the moment we need them.

I do not regret standing beside truth.

I do not regret defending it.

What I have realised, however, is that not everybody values truth in the same way.

Some people become far more interested in the reaction something creates, in the upset it causes and, sadly, in the strange sense of power certain situations seem to give them.

Truth has always mattered to me deeply. Even as a child I remember feeling that if somebody challenged something which I knew was true, I felt almost a responsibility to stand beside it and defend it. I felt I had to continue explaining, continue proving and continue hoping that eventually another person would understand.

Looking back now, I realise how exhausting that can become.

There comes a point where one speaks their truth once, stands beside it once, and then quietly places it down.

Not because truth no longer matters.

Not because one gives up.

Simply because another person’s opinion cannot remove what you know in your own heart.

There is a peace in that.

A very deep peace.

Photo by Tj Holowaychuk on Unsplash

I think for much of my life I carried things which perhaps were never mine to carry at all. Other people’s hurt. Other people’s projections. Other people’s disappointments. I think I gathered them quietly without even noticing.

There are people who appear while there is something to gain and disappear when support is needed in return. That has been difficult to accept because I genuinely wanted to see the best in everyone.

I wrote recently that sometimes we need to walk away.

Walking away once felt like weakness to me.

Walking away now feels very different.

There have been moments over recent months where I have sat almost as though beside a river, watching my thoughts pass quietly by, noticing patterns I perhaps had not wanted to notice before and recognising just how long some of those patterns had existed.

Some thoughts drifted away.

Some returned again and again.

Some sat beside me quietly until I finally looked at them properly.

Peace has become one of the greatest priorities in my life now. Years ago that sentence would probably have meant very little to me. As a young girl peace never seemed important. Life felt full of movement and plans and dreams. Yet time has a way of gently rearranging priorities.

Peace now feels like coming home.

Not perfection.

Not endless happiness.

Simply peace.

Life comes in waves.

There are seasons of joy and seasons of sadness and periods of uncertainty which seem to arrive without warning. None of us remain permanently happy and none of us remain permanently sad either.

Strangely, there is comfort in remembering that.

Life has a way of changing whilst we are busy looking elsewhere. People change. Circumstances change. Our understanding changes too. Looking back now, I think there is comfort in knowing that nothing remains standing exactly where we left it, because even during the more difficult chapters something may already be unfolding quietly beyond our view.

Perhaps that is one of the mysteries of life which gives me hope.

Life can be difficult and lonely and many of you have written privately sharing your own struggles and yet life also remains magical.

Open Wings has become one of the gentlest places I know.

I remember being grateful for one subscriber. Looking now at this community and the messages, kindness and patience shown during my silence leaves me with more gratitude than I can put into words.

To those of you who waited quietly while I found my footing again, thank you.

My hope moving forward remains very simple: to continue growing, to continue learning and to continue becoming the very best version of myself that I can be.

There is only one version of me.

There is only one version of you.

That seems reason enough to keep becoming who we truly are.

Lots of love, as always,

Open Wings

Copyright @Openwings May 2026