This Little Beach Doesn’t Whisper
Do I want to be praised? Yes, of course — I’m human. Praise feeds the ego. It means I did something good, something noticed. But whenever someone applauds me, I can’t help but ask myself: Is this really good for me, or just convenient for them?
Questions like this have shaped my self-discovery — and forced me to ask what it really means to live authentically.
The Good Girl Script
As a little girl, I learned the rules of being “good.”
“Don’t shout. Don’t curse. Don’t exaggerate. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Don’t interrupt. Sit up straight. Smile. Behave. Say sorry. Kiss grandpa. Don’t whine. Don’t brag. Don’t complain. Don’t talk back. Wait your turn. Be a good girl. Don’t cry—it’s nothing!”
It was drilled into me: smaller, softer, quieter. And all the while, adults claimed it was for my good. But was it really? Or was it to keep me caged, easy to handle, palatable to the world?
The truth is, we are programmed—especially as women—to stay in line. To not fight for our true selves. To not make noise. Because what if we’re too much? Too loud, too emotional, too demanding, too raw?
And yet, the same people who hush us will later say, “Why didn’t you say something?” when the silence finally breaks us.
Polished Pictures, Broken Truths
It doesn’t stop in childhood. The performance continues into adulthood.
When we travel, we show only the glossy photos: beaches without trash, skin without cellulite, days without rain. We hide the sunburns, the bruises, the missed buses, the nights when loneliness hit hard. We edit out the tears on the bathroom floor.
In relationships, we pretend everything is fine until it’s impossible to breathe. We crawl into bed beside the person we promised forever to, even if we can’t remember the last time we smiled at them. We play the part of “happy couple” at dinners and holidays, because the truth would be too messy, too complicated, too real.
This is what happens when the script runs us: we perform until there’s nothing left inside.
Choosing Honesty
One day, I promised myself something different: to be honest. Truly honest.
Not cruel. Not oversharing. Just true.
When I meet new people now, I don’t try to seduce them with charm or please them with rehearsed politeness. It stings if someone doesn’t like me—but what matters more is whether I like them. Whether the connection feels real. Because if I’m honest, it gives others permission to be honest too. Why waste time getting to know masks, when we could meet each other as we really are?
Lessons From the Past
Of course, I can’t always live up to this vow. Honesty doesn’t erase pain. Some things still hurt. Sometimes the past cuts deep. But I try to look back with an open heart: to learn, to be grateful, to accept that even the hardest lessons shaped me into who I am today.
Being honest with myself means I can leave situations that don’t serve me, before they crush me. It doesn’t mean life is painless. It just means fewer wounds, fewer regrets, fewer years lost pretending to be someone I’m not.
No More Whispering
That’s why this little beach doesn’t whisper anymore.
Whispering is safe. Whispering is polite. Whispering keeps the peace. But it also keeps us small. And I refuse to be small.
Neither should you.
Join me in #lifeunfiltered