It’s hard to find the answer to a question so daunting and rather blunt, but it’s resonated with me for so long that I’ve come to believe there might not be any answer at all. The quote comes from the Heptaméron by Marguerite de Navarre, a collection of short stories from the 16th century. In one tale, a young knight asks the question to a noblewoman he’s in love with. The quote gained popularity through the acclaimed book Call Me by Your Name by André Aciman and later through the movie adaptation directed by Luca Guadagnino.
When I first heard this quote, I was astounded that a feeling I’d grown to know far too well had such a simple translation. Should we risk our vulnerability with the possibility of dismay or stay with the regret of the words left unsaid?
Many times, silence can prove to be the easy way out, a means to be comfortable for the time being and to stay in control of your feelings and desires. There’s a sense of safety in letting your thoughts fester within your head and not allowing others to know. But what happens when that safety turns into suffocation and the agony of what could’ve been finally catches up to you? As someone who has spent time and time again never speaking up, I can say that a silent death occurs — the death of the part of myself that should’ve been heard but couldn’t fathom her thoughts becoming reality.
In an age where words carry so much weight, to speak and expose the truth of who you are and what you believe costs more than it ever has. It shatters the “perfect” version of you that exists in the minds of others before they know you, and it releases you of any control you had, delivering it to the world to decide your fate. Mere words are the only thing tethering you between the risk of being misunderstood or the reward of your courage. One can argue that there is also a sense of death in speaking, but a different kind: the death of illusion and the emergence of our true selves. Forgoing our need to perform and allowing ourselves to be raw and vulnerable, the way we were always intended to be.
At the end of the day, the decision between speaking and dying comes down to who we are and what kind of person we want to be. Is our silence truly protecting u,s or are we avoiding being perceived more intimately? When I think back to all the times I held my tongue and didn’t express a certain thought or feeling, nine times out of 10 I ended up regretting it, no matter how big or small. And for the times I did speak, even if it didn’t go as planned, the one thing I never regretted was expressing how I felt. Being open and vulnerable is such a delicate and uniquely human experience, one that is so profound and can change the fabric of the world around us. I believe in taking risks whenever the opportunity presents itself because to speak isn’t necessarily to die, but to be who you truly are.