Household Silences

The art of adapting to modern socio-environmental contexts, starting at home.

I often wonder if there’s something wrong with me for being so silent while at home.

For being in my own bubble of a bedroom with the door closed. For not talking to people I live with every single day. For not having much to say beyond a “you good?” or “how are you?” while passing a cased opening.

I find myself justifying the lack of daily banter as “It’s because we live together. It’s because we’re all in our own little comfort zones. It’s because silence is desired after a long day’s work. It’s because…”

But honestly, I don’t know.

I don’t know if this is normal human household activity.

The Hypervigilant to Hermit Pipeline

I do know I’m a bonafide hermit who thrives in solitude. But even as a hermit, an inclination to connect still remains. In fact, my alone time largely informs the fulfillment of my connections. I still crave relationships, reciprocity.

Aside from being a hermit, I’m also hypervigilant. I was the kid that tiptoed on eggshells, ultra sensitive to the social dynamics that were swirling around my household. And let me tell you, exercising that amount of homegrown adaptability was exhausting—hence my growing love for alone time.

*Cue nervous system regulating Hz frequency sounds

Adaptability

Cut to now, and I’ve learned how to monetize this trauma response adaptability—my ability to adapt to modern socio-environmental contexts.

How do I feel about this?

Well, it’s complicated. Leveraging the shapeshifter archetype has often left me wondering whether I’m just playing it up to hide my capacity to be a plain-ass, fake-ass people pleaser. I mean, it boggles my mind how I could manage to be so chameleonic while simultaneously holding onto my center of gravity.

Home Away from Home

But once again, solitude is the medicinal response. It stands as the practice of coming home to myself. Consequently, I can be all same bitch different energy because my truth remains as the north star that I keep my sights set on.

But despite any warnings, no one could have prepared me for the household silence.

Nor the fear that creeps out of it.

Amidst the trek towards home in Self, in authenticity, comes social distancing. As I sit in it, I realize that it is to be learned in real-time experiencing and not logical study. It’s learned through a quiet growing pain.

And in this pain I’m left asking myself “Is this normal?”

Same Coin, Different Side

It’s human nature to shift, change, adapt and grow—to evolve.

We all do it all the time. Just at different rates and paces. When you take hierarchy out, what’s so abnormal about that?

No doubt, 2020 served as a rude awakening in this sense: It triggered my hypervigilant-to-hermit tendencies like a mutha, inspired adaptation towards different means of connection, and left me digging deep within for purpose because what else was I to do with all of that time cooped up amongst the same rotation of people?

And all of that… stuck.

Despite all of this logical reasoning, however, the idea of there being household silence for others out there (who don’t even identify as hermits, might I add) is both validating and alarming. Why? I personally can’t tell which side of the coin is best to be on.

AKA, I can’t tell what’s truly normal.

For now, I’ll just take my coin.