The moment I get home from work, I raise my voice over nothing
This story is for anyone who sends a sharp reply at the door, before even taking off their shoes after work.
Scenes
- I raise my voice over nothing — The moment I walk in, my voice rises over small things, and I’m startled into silence.
- I wasn’t someone who wanted to get angry — My jaw tenses before I open the door, and when someone speaks to me, sharpness comes before an answer.
- I replied before taking off my shoes — After work, I read the message at the door and tapped out a short, harsh reply before I could even catch my breath.
- Your body hasn’t left work yet — When the day’s tension meets the first trigger, your mind reacts before it can choose what it means. The more you suppress it, the faster it comes out.
- Find just one place where your body is tense — Before opening a reply at the door, notice one tense spot—your jaw or hand, for example—and name it out loud. Even if nothing changes right away, you’ll start to see the sequence.
- You can notice it before your voice rises — Even on days when your voice rises again, it isn’t a failure. You’ve met the moment your body warned you first. You’re beginning to see what came before it.
Stories by Dalbit
- Dalbit
- On payday, it feels like I got less than my fair share.
- When dinner with my coworkers ends, I think of the path my parents chose for me.
- When I close the door after work, I can’t think of anyone to reach out to.
- When a notification comes in, my shoulders tense up first.
- On payday, I want to ask how you are first
- When I think of my child’s report card, I end up grading myself too.
- After hearing about my friend, my own day feels small.
- Even in the salon mirror, the silence between me and my husband follows me.