What We Leave Unsaid

Remembering Childhood Desires

Every day, we pass people whose stories we will never know.

We see a woman checking her phone beside a half-filled grocery cart. An older man buying flowers. A nervous young father sitting in a hospital waiting room. We notice only a few seconds of their lives, yet we often form an opinion about who they are and what is happening.

But the moment we witness is rarely the whole story.

PAUSE: Unsaid Words began with that simple truth. Everyone is carrying something, and much of it is never spoken aloud.

My first book, The Choice to See Differently, told my own story of pain, healing and changing perspective. With PAUSE, I turned my attention outward. I wanted to explore what might be happening beneath the ordinary moments we see every day.

Each chapter begins with an encounter. Some happen in grocery stores, parks, waiting rooms or places of work. They are the kinds of moments most of us would normally walk past without giving them much thought.

Then the story pauses.

What follows is a letter containing the thoughts, fears, memories and emotions that were never spoken during the encounter. Some are prayers. Some are confessions. Others are words meant for someone who may never hear them.

The letters reveal what the outside moment could not.

A person who appears distracted may be frightened. Someone who seems impatient may be overwhelmed. A simple purchase may carry years of memory, grief or love. The smallest interaction can hold an entire life behind it.

We never truly know what another person is carrying.

Unsaid words are not always secrets. Sometimes we remain silent because we are afraid of being misunderstood. Sometimes the moment passes before we find the courage to speak. We may not have the right words, or we may believe that no one wants to hear them.

There are also words we leave unsaid because saying them would make something real.

“I’m scared.”

“I miss you.”

“I need help.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I love you.”

Those words can remain inside us for years, shaping how we see ourselves and the people around us.

PAUSE does not offer perfect answers or tell readers what they should think. Instead, it creates room to notice, reflect and wonder. What might be happening beneath the surface? What would we understand if we listened more carefully? How differently might we treat someone if we knew the story they were carrying?

Perhaps we would judge less quickly.

Perhaps we would offer more patience.

Perhaps we would recognize something of ourselves in a stranger.

That is what I hope readers take from this book: a willingness to slow down and look again. Not every silence needs to be filled, but every person deserves to be seen as more than one passing moment.

Sometimes, the greatest act of compassion is simply to pause.

PAUSE: Unsaid Words is available now in the Kindle edition, with the paperback arriving on Amazon September 25.