They Built Their Power on My Silence — So I Took the Silence Away

They Built Their Power on My Silence — So I Took the Silence Away

They counted on me shutting up.

That’s what people like this always count on.

They don’t expect you to vanish instantly —

they just expect the slow, public withering.

You stop correcting them.

You stop posting.

You stop defending yourself because it costs more energy than it returns.

And they win by default.

Because silence is easier to weaponise than noise.

They just fill the space you left behind.

I gave them that silence — for a while.

Not because I agreed with them.

But because I didn’t think I had a choice.

I didn’t want to keep performing my pain

for people who only watched to be entertained.

I didn’t want to explain myself to those

who never once questioned the version of the story

that painted me so clearly in black and white.

But then I realised:

That silence wasn’t neutral. It was being used against me.

They were still talking.

Still posting.

Still using my name like it was their property.

Still letting the narrative settle —

while I stood frozen in the wreckage, hoping someone would eventually ask me what really happened.

No one asked.

So I stopped waiting.

And I started writing.

This is why The Long Return exists.

Because silence didn’t protect me.

It just left a vacuum for them to fill.

So I filled it myself.

With evidence.

With memory.

With rage and softness and structure.

With a voice that doesn’t need permission anymore.

They underestimated me.

They thought the worst thing they could do was smear me.

But the worst thing they actually did?

They gave me time.

Time to gather proof.

Time to outlast the hysteria.

Time to build something louder than rumour

and more permanent than screenshot captions.

This post is a message to anyone still holding it in:

Your silence is not neutral.

It’s currency — and they’re spending it for you.

You don’t owe them politeness.

You don’t owe them permission.

You don’t owe them your name as an open wound.

But you owe yourself the right to speak

before the lie settles into history.

And if you need somewhere to start?

Start here.

Use my voice until you can find your own again.