The Frausto Collective

Rise Above The Noise

Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is stay silent. This is a story about protecting your peace when someone around you tries to take it.

BOUNDARIESCOPARENTINGHEALING

4/18/20263 min read

There is a particular kind of strength that isn't loud. It doesn't announce itself. It doesn't need an audience. It simply shows up, quietly, every single day, in the choice to remain steady when everything around you is designed to shake you.

I have lived through an experience that tried to break me. Without going into detail, I can tell you that I have faced antagonism that has followed me into spaces that should have felt safe, that has tested my composure in public and in private, and that has, at times, crossed lines that no person should have to endure. I have handled what needed to be handled the right way, through the proper channels, and I will continue to.

What I won't do is give it more power than it deserves.

Someone else's behavior will always try to write the script for your reaction, but you hold the pen.

I've learned this lesson the hard way, through repetition, through moments that tested every ounce of patience I had. There will always be people who show up with the intention to provoke. A comment dropped at just the right moment to sting. A look across a room meant to unsettle you. A message crafted to pull you into a fight you never agreed to be part of. Their goal is simple: they want a reaction. Any reaction. Because a reaction gives them power, and power is what they're really after.

For a long time, I thought staying calm meant staying silent about how hard it actually was. It isn't easy. There have been moments I wanted nothing more than to respond with the same energy I was being handed. But I've come to understand that every time I choose not to, I'm not losing. I'm winning in the quietest, most powerful way possible.

Here's what I remind myself, especially on the harder days:

Their behavior belongs to them. It was shaped by things that have nothing to do with me, wounds I didn't cause and can't heal for them. When I remember that, it becomes easier to separate their actions from my own worth. Their chaos is not a reflection of my character; it's a reflection of theirs.

My reaction belongs to me. I don't have to match energy with energy. I don't have to explain myself, defend myself, or perform outrage for an audience that's only looking for a show. I can simply choose not to play the part they've written for me.

Grace is not weakness. Walking away, staying composed, and refusing to engage isn't about being passive. It's one of the most disciplined, intentional choices a person can make. It takes far more strength to stay steady than it does to strike back.

Peace is worth protecting. I have too much I've built, too many people I love, and too much life ahead of me to trade my peace for a moment of satisfaction that fades the second it happens.

If you're navigating something similar, whether it's one difficult person or an entire situation that keeps testing your patience, I want you to remember this: you are allowed to remove yourself from the story someone else is trying to write for you. You are allowed to close the book on chapters that were never yours to begin with.

Their behavior does not dictate your reaction. It never did. You've always held the pen.

I am still standing. I am still becoming. And I am, above all, still me.

With strength and grace,
Brunita Lilly

"Someone else's behavior will always try to write the script for your reaction, but you hold the pen..." Brunita Lilly