Breaking the Bonds of Silence

"While I, spurred on by yet another thirst, kept silent ..." (Dante, Purgatorio XVIII)

Feb 11, 2026

Silence is golden, is it not? At least that’s what the Scottish historian and poet, Thomas Carlyle, supposedly claimed. This statement seems particularly fitting in homes where emotional, verbal and psychological damage is perpetrated on a regular basis. The victims of such abuse have learned the hard way that staying silent means staying safe.

And quite often, that’s true—at least when interacting with the person committing the abuse.

However, silence can also keep us chained up within ourselves. Lost in a whirl of shame or fear about our situation, we often keep silent even when we’re around people who are safe, nurturing, and empathetic. If we keep silent out of fear or misplaced piety, the lack of interaction with others can prove to be a trap of isolation which only increases the effects of domestic abuse.

When we should speak—and when we should keep silent

As always, Sacred Scripture is our ultimate discernment tool when knowing when to speak—and who we should be speaking to. Ecclesiastes 3 reminds us:

All things have their season, and in their times all things pass under heaven … A time to keep silence, and a time to speak (1,7).

Speaking to others—those who have been tested in virtue and steadfastness and are known to be trustworthy—can help relieve our inner burdens and clarify our needs. As St. Thomas Aquinas wrote:

A hurtful thing hurts yet more if we keep it shut up, because the soul is more intent on it: whereas if it be allowed to escape, the soul’s intention is dispersed as it were on outward things, so that the inward sorrow is lessened.
(Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae I-II, Q. 38)

But how do we find safe people? And, after all the confusion of gaslighting, manipulation, and crazy-making, how can we manage to free our hearts from the chronic mistrust we’ve developed?

Trusting the Trustworthy

Sometimes it’s easy to know who the safe people are in our lives. Long-standing friendships, family members we can rely on, and other people who have proved their trustworthiness may be obvious. However, those of us who have been jaded by the trauma of being misused by a loved one now tend to find it difficult to trust our intuition about people.

Recognizing safe relationships should be easy, but when we’ve been tricked by covert manipulations into thinking a relationship is safe—then discovering it isn’t—our filter seems to be broken. Who is safe? How can I know I’m reading this person correctly? What if I’m wrong? These are all questions we struggle with after being betrayed by a loved one.

One way to discern a safe relationship is by asking ourselves: Does being with this person help us both draw closer to God? Do I feel like the person God created me to be when I’m around this person?

Other ways you can discern whether or not a person is trustworthy enough to hear your story include:

They accept you for who you are—and don’t try to mold you into what they want you to be.
When you disagree, there may be a friendly debate, but no acrimonious words, accusations, or attempts to force you to their perspective. It’s a conversation, not a battle.
When you tell them something in confidence, they keep it in confidence—without exception.
After talking with this person you feel nurtured and safe.
Your conversations are just that—back and forth, give and take, mutually supportive.
You can be yourself with this person—the good and the ugly. What you are on the inside is what you can express on the outside. You’re still loved, despite your flaws.
You can feel an implicit sense of understanding and empathy when with this person.

People who aren’t safe to talk to tend to be one-sided (their side), prone to gossip, and have what I call a “Pharisee complex”—they think they’re better than other, and will be sure to “correct” you according to their needs. They put on a facade of competence, holiness, intelligence, or maturity, but those things are only surface deep. When trying to talk to them, you get blasted with gaslighting, a twisting of your words, and crazy-making.

When people are unsafe, it’s best not to JADE: Justify, Argue, Defend, or Explain your point of view, actions, or feelings. It won’t do any good. In that case, “Sin is not ended by multiplying words, but the prudent hold their tongues” (Prov. 10:19). Although it may be difficult, keeping silence is often best in many situations. Dante’s quote from the Purgatorio is one I can relate to in regards to situations where I’ve had to zip my mouth despite the verbal venom I was receiving: “While I, spurred on by yet another thirst, kept silent ...” (Dante, Purgatorio XVIII). Or, in the words of Sacred Scripture, “So I remained utterly silent, not even saying anything good. But my anguish increased” (Ps. 39:2).

Yet keeping everything bottled up isn’t the answer, either. When we’ve endured any sort of trauma, talking about it with safe people can be one of the most healing and affirming things we can do for ourselves. Whether we join a support group, a healing and safe community, or have reliable loved ones we can turn to, telling our story is pivotal toward reintegration of self.

Misplaced Guilt

It’s not uncommon for people to feel guilty for talking to safe friends about their issues. They may wonder if it’s a sin to complain about the person who is harming them, or even if they’re engaging in gossip. They worry others will think badly toward their loved one, something they don’t want—even if their loved ones have acted badly.

It’s important to understand the difference between resentful complaints and talking to a friend out of a true need for guidance, empathy, friendship and healing connection. For more on this topic, check out my article, “Healthy Healing vs. Critical Complaint: Talking Openly about Intimate Partner Violence.”

It’s not a sin to seek the companionship of a safe heart. It’s not a sin to tell the facts of our story—including how we feel—without engaging in a desire for revenge or the motivation of manipulating others to be our “side.” It’s not gossip when we’re telling our story because we need the safety of a loving heart who will listen.

There is power in story. There is power in your story, no matter how heartbreaking it may be. Telling our story to safe people helps to internally release it, process it, and clarify needs. Shame is relived, cognitive distortions and lies can be corrected, and our nervous system becomes regulated when in an environment of safety and release. This allows us to process our experiences and gather tangible tips toward moving forward.

Sharing our story helps us break out of isolation and provides the relief of knowing we’re not alone.