To the “Troublemakers”

“Don’t you see? He didn’t intend his actions to be harmful. It was just a misunderstanding!”

These words were spoken with a sense of relief and revelation from the individual intervening in the issues. He did not hide his enthusiasm that with this new understanding we would be able to put this whole thing behind us. The person who had caused me harm didn’t mean it. Case closed.

To his dismay, I did not share the same enthusiasm.

“Regardless of the intention behind the actions, it does not excuse the impacts they had on me. They cannot absolve themselves of responsibility for the hurts that resulted from their behaviour.”

The illusion of progress deflated, and the facilitator had nowhere to go from here.


I have wondered, if people don’t understand the description of harm, does that make them incapable of inciting it? Do the good intentions make the negative impacts of behaviour obsolete?

I have learned that bringing your experiences to light comes with a cost. Where I once held a hopeful naivety that expressions of hurt would be met with empathy and care, I have discovered this is not always the case. At times, expressing the pain of your experience can cost you community, stability, and your reputation. When the truth is too uncomfortable to hear, people can go to great lengths to “make sense” of the story. Instead of exploring the issue, seeking to understand, or believing your experience, you can be met with reversed charges. It’s turned into a “you” issue. “She’s been struggling or overwhelmed lately.” “She’s just being sensitive.” “She misunderstands the good intentions.”

Where was I to go from here? I grew emotionally numb, lulled into a learned helplessness, reaching the point where I realized that regardless of my actions, nothing would change. I had to soften my words, minimizing my experiences to lessen their discomfort with the truth and using more palatable descriptors. Shifting from “toxic” to “dysfunctional,” softening from “abusive” to “conflictual.” These words diluted to the extent that they had lost their meaning. I constantly questioned, “Will saying something help?”


I wonder the same thing as I write this. I have held back, afraid of being further misunderstood and dismissed as irreconcilable and “emotional.” As if my emotions dismiss me from care instead of being the very thing that should incite it. I have wondered if people will co-opt my words to mean something else. Will people be curious and seek to understand my pain, or will they react defensively? Then there’s that small nudge, that maybe my story will resonate with someone. That maybe someone else is hurting too.

Unfortunately, for those who hold the positions of power or benefitting from the current system, people who speak out are labeled as “troublemakers.” Their presence and voice is framed as “divisive,” rather than illuminating.


So I offer a word,

To the “troublemakers,”

To the “dissenters,”

To the “disrupters,”

To the “gossipers,”

You are not crazy.

You are not divisive.

You are not insubordinate.

To the truth tellers,

To the insightful,

To the weary resisters,

To those who have numbed themselves to persevere,

What are you noticing?

What are you feeling prompted to pay attention to?

What are you hearing?

To those taking up space,

You are not too much. You are just enough.

What did you experience? What are you experiencing?

What darkness are you trying to illuminate?

To the estranged. To the lonely.

I hope you feel seen today.

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Let them Speak: The Fear of Gossip that Silences

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The Hidden Costs of Trauma