Love Me Through My Silence

Sometimes people back away when we go silent because they don’t understand or they think something is wrong.
Sometimes they mistake silence for there being issues, when in fact it has nothing to do with them at all.
It has everything to do with you.
You finding your peace.
You healing.
You grieving.
You loving on yourself or someone’s child.
Or maybe… you’re hurting.

Silence is a powerful thing—
A necessary thing.
It’s often where we finally hear what we’ve been too busy to notice.
Some call it “gathering ourselves.”
In a spiritual context, it’s where the soul goes to have conversations with God.

As you can see, silence is not a negative gesture—
It’s an intentional redirection.
A sacred pause.
A clearing of emotional clutter.
A listening beyond the noise.

But the silence itself isn’t the concern—
It’s how you love someone through it.

Loving someone through their silence means…

  • Not taking it personally. Their quiet doesn’t mean rejection. It often means reflection.
  • Being present without pressing. Sometimes the most loving thing you can say is nothing at all, and simply stay.
  • Resisting the urge to “fix” it. Healing isn’t always visible. Support doesn’t always need to be loud.
  • Checking in, not checking out. A simple “I’m here when you’re ready” speaks volumes to a quiet heart.

If you truly care for someone, learn to read the silence.

It might say,
“I’m tired.”
“I’m sorting through something.”
“I just need a little space to come back to myself.”
“Please don’t disappear just because I did.”

Because if silence is a love language,
Then presence is the reply.

So when I go quiet, love me anyway.
Love me through the stillness.
Love me with your patience.
Love me like silence is not absence…
but a prayer.

Have you ever needed someone to love you through your silence?

Everything Is Not for Everybody

By Epiphany

The phrase “everything is not for everyone” has become cliché — tossed around in conversation, often without much reflection. But when you sit with it, really sit with it, there’s a deeper wisdom tucked in between the words.

It’s not just about the journey you’re on or the blessings you’re receiving. Sometimes, it’s about the information we share — the unfiltered pieces of our vision, our plans, our process — and who we hand those sacred things to.

Do we overshare?
Offer too much of ourselves to those who haven’t earned that access?
Reveal our next move before it’s had time to root?

It doesn’t mean you’re wrong for being open. It means discernment is your new form of protection.

Because the truth is: people might know you, but that doesn’t mean they see you — not your path, not your assignment, not your future. And that disconnect? That unfamiliarity with your becoming? It can scare them. Or worse — shift the energy around your growth before it even has a chance to bloom.

I’ve been there.
Shared prematurely.
Celebrated too soon.
Felt the sting of disappointment when what should’ve been met with joy was instead clouded by confusion or critique.

But I’ve also learned:
Everything sacred isn’t meant to be shouted.
Some things thrive best in silence.
Some moves are made in stillness.
And some revelations are too tender to carry public weight until they’re fully grown.


The Resolve

Before you share that new idea…
Before you post the next win or whisper your next step…

Pause.

Ask yourself:

  • Do I need to share this right now?
  • Who is this for?
  • Will sharing serve me — or simply satisfy the moment?

Because sometimes, keeping it to yourself isn’t secrecy.
It’s strategy.
It’s self-respect.
It’s sacred protection.

We Listen…We Don’t Judge

We hear, we don’t judge — but we also don’t listen. That was always a hard pill to swallow.
Listening. Yes, listening.

Sometimes we think that just the mere ability to hear means that we are listening, but in essence, many of us are not. There are so many things going on in our minds while someone else is speaking that we don’t truly hear the message. Instead, we rush to respond. We rush to fix. We rush to exert energy in places that don’t need it — leaving us worse off and probably involved in something we had no business stepping into in the first place.

Learning to be still can be difficult. But learning to truly be still and listen — without reacting — may take the strength of an army. Believe me, though, you will be all the better for it.

You see, true listening requires presence.
It asks you to pause your inner dialogue, to resist the urge to defend, to diagnose, to dissect. It demands that you hold space — not just with your ears, but with your heart. That’s the part they don’t teach us.

We’re taught to be efficient. To respond quickly. To fix what’s broken.
But some things aren’t meant to be fixed — they’re meant to be felt.

And when you allow yourself to listen — really listen — you begin to witness something deeper. You hear the fear behind the frustration. The pain beneath the sarcasm. The plea buried in the silence. You begin to notice the things left unsaid — the pauses, the stumbles, the breath held just a second too long.

This kind of listening isn’t passive. It’s powerful.
It’s the kind of listening that transforms conversations.
It softens walls.
It brings healing.

Because sometimes, the most sacred thing you can offer someone isn’t advice.
It’s attention.
Unfiltered. Uninterrupted. Unconditional.

And when you begin to give that gift to others, something beautiful happens — you learn how to offer it to yourself, too.

So today, be still.
Don’t rush to fix.
Don’t rush to speak.

Just listen.

And in that quiet… you just might hear what you’ve been missing all along.

When was the last time you truly listened — to someone else, or to yourself? Share your moment below or email me at dearepiphany@gmail.com