“You are young, you know nothing,” they always said.
I remember sitting at the dinner table, listening to the adults talk. They spoke over me, around me, never to me. ‘You’re just a child,’ they would say. But they didn’t know that every word they said sank deep into my heart.
They thought my world was simple, filled with toys and games. They thought my biggest worry was what to play next. But they never thought that i knew everything.
I heard the whispers late at night, the arguments behind closed doors. I knew more than they ever imagined.
It’s hard to act clueless when you understand so much. I saw the worry lines on their faces, felt the tension in the air. They believed I was too young to grasp the seriousness of life’s problems. But I did. I felt the pain, the fear, the uncertainty.
The shouting matches at home were the worst. The way their voices would rise, sharp and angry, cutting through the walls. They thought I was too busy playing. But every argument, every fight, echoed in my heart. I felt the tension like a heavy blanket, suffocating and inescapable.
They wanted me to be carefree, to enjoy my youth. But how could I, when the world around me was falling apart? I pretended not to notice the sadness, the silent tears. I smiled and played along, hiding my understanding behind a facade of naivety.
The hardest part was the loneliness. Knowing so much but having no one to talk to about it. They told me I wouldn’t understand, but I did. My heart carried the weight of their secrets, my mind replayed their hushed conversations.
There were nights when I cried myself to sleep, feeling the burden of their problems. They didn’t know that I worried about the bills, about the strained looks they exchanged. They thought I was too young to understand the weight of our financial struggles, but they don’t know that i count everynight in my mind too.
I wanted to offer my support and encouragement. But I knew that they were trying to shield me from their worries, to protect me from the harsh realities of adulthood.
So, I stayed silent, my heart heavy with the weight of their burdens. I wanted to tell them that I understood, that I appreciated everything they were doing for our family. But all I could do was listen, pretending to know nothing while silently cheering them on from the sidelines.
Then, I realized something. Maybe they kept their struggles from me not because they thought I wouldn’t understand, but because they wanted to shield me from the world’s harsh realities.
Believing I was too young to bear the burden of our struggles.
To my younger self; it’s alright to understand more than they think you do. Feeling deeply isn’t a flaw, it’s a superpower. One day, they’ll see your quiet strength.
Being young isn’t about not knowing. It’s about holding onto a ‘silent wisdom,’ a hidden understanding that’s stronger than it seems.
