Do I open my mouth, and let the words flow out like an unruly waterfall that has no stopping point regardless of the repercussions, or let the words bottle up like an overflowing glass that seems as though it could break at any minute?

Is it better to risk everything I’ve ever known or to keep silent for the rest of my life?

Do I speak, do I let it be, or do I die? 

The answer leaves me pondering like a child lost on the unbeaten path of life. I feel as though the choice is never clear, and whatever choice I choose is the wrong one. Do I open that part up about me, do I reach out, do I tell them what I feel, or do I keep my pride and let it stop me from accomplishing things that could be the most beautiful blessings in my life? 

As a girl who’s never at a loss for words, my mind constantly has a bundle of thoughts crowding my cranium, yet the words never leave my mouth or touch my lips.

As I sit here writing this column, a realization flows over me that speaking about the pain, the sadness, and the heartbreak might eventually set me free from the chains I’ve bound myself in. We aren’t given a trial life. This is the one life we receive, and as scary as it might seem, I’m going to start choosing to speak. 

Tell that person that you like their outfit; they don’t think that’s a weird thing to say. Ask that person to get coffee with you. They probably want to go out with you too. Wear those jeans you like even though they don’t fit you exactly how you wanted them to, but they are oh-so-comfy. 

There’s a saying, “Speaking is dying. But, better speaking and dying than dying without having spoken.” How I interpret this is that to speak is to risk the danger, but death is to die misunderstood.

So, although the choice is not clear or an easy one this year, I’m choosing to speak. I’m standing my ground. I am not a doormat, and yes, although I’m very aware I talk a lot, I still have more to say. 

I choose to speak rather than die this year.