I was afraid of silence.

Opening up about myself is something I often hesitate to do, as it feels somewhat selfish. However, I believe that sharing my background will help illustrate the point of this post.

I was born and raised on a small, vibrant island in the Caribbean—Cuba. Growing up, I was enveloped in a rich tapestry of sounds: the lively rhythms of salsa music pouring out of open windows, the laughter and chatter of family gatherings, and the animated conversations that filled our home.

However, life took a drastic turn, forcing me into a period of silence. At first, this shift was uncomfortable; the absence of familiar sounds felt like a void.

But as I sat in silence over time, I began to understand its profound nature. It revealed to me a new kind of companionship—a quiet presence that allowed for introspection and self-discovery. I realized that this silence was not just an absence of noise, but an invitation to connect with my thoughts and emotions in a way I had never experienced before.

It was a reminder that sometimes, true company comes not from the clamor of voices around us, but from the stillness within ourselves.