Why I Will Not Be Silenced: A Stand for Equality and Change

Jo Tunderman / Wim Tunderman

I have always believed in nuance—in seeing different perspectives, in understanding before speaking. But some things don’t require nuance. Some things demand clarity. Some things demand a voice that refuses to be quiet.

So here’s mine.

I am a feminist. I want the patriarchy to fall. Not soften, not evolve—fall. Because it was never built to serve anyone but the few in power. It was built to control. To keep women small. To keep the rich richer. To keep the world spinning in the hands of those who think they own it. And I will never apologize for wanting that system gone.

The Silence That Was Expected of Me

If you think this is something that comes naturally to me—this standing my ground, speaking my truth, refusing to be silenced—you’d be wrong.

I grew up in a world where authority was absolute, where questioning was dangerous, where obedience was framed as virtue. I learned young that my own will, my own thoughts, my own voice were not the point. What mattered was following God’s will. Which, conveniently, always seemed to align with the will of those in power.

I wasn’t supposed to ask questions about religion. Doubt, I was told, was the voice of the devil. Free will? Only acceptable as long as it led to the “right” choices. Autonomy? A dangerous illusion.

Women in my family did speak. They did see through the hypocrisy. But they were ignored, dismissed, betrayed by those who should have stood beside them.

My grandmother was an Emotional Manifestor. She did not bow to religion, did not let the church dictate her life. My mother, a 5/1 Mental Projector, refused to stay silent when she saw hypocrisy and deception being preached from the pulpit. She spoke up. She pointed out the lies. And yet, she was never believed. She was never supported. The people who should have had her back were the ones who turned on her instead.

I saw all of this. I saw what happened to women who refused to conform, who refused to submit. I saw how easily their voices were dismissed, how quickly they were isolated when they did not obey.

And so, I learned to stay small. To be agreeable. To avoid drawing too much attention to myself. Because I knew what happened to women who spoke too loudly.

But silence came at a cost.

Breaking Free—And the Fear That Comes With It

It has taken me years to reclaim my voice, and it is still a conscious effort every single day.

Speaking up, taking space, standing in my truth—it does not come without fear. It does not come without doubt. The fear of rejection, of being dismissed, of being controlled—it still lingers in my body, a deeply ingrained pattern that I have to unlearn over and over again.

But here’s the difference: I no longer obey it.

I have walked this path with shaking hands, with doubt clawing at my throat, with the weight of centuries of conditioning pressing down on me. And still, I walk.

Because I refuse to go back.

Because I will never again give up the space I have fought so hard to claim.

Why This Matters in My Work

This isn’t just personal. It is the foundation of everything I do.

I work with people who are learning to break free from the conditioning that has kept them small. Who are learning to trust their own voice, their own instincts, their own power. Who are stepping into their truth, often for the first time, after years of being told they should be something else.

And how could I guide them if I was too afraid to do the same?

I take up space so that others can see that they, too, are allowed to. I refuse to be silent so that others know they don’t have to be either.

The World We’re Up Against

I see what’s happening.

Women across the world are fighting for the right to exist on their own terms, and yet—even in places that claim to be “free”—there’s still an effort to control us. Our voices, our choices, our bodies.

Sometimes it’s obvious. Sometimes it’s disguised as religion, spirituality, tradition, or “protection.” But at its core, it’s fear. They fear what happens when women are no longer held back. When we no longer ask for permission. When we take up space without apology.

And it’s not just women. Power fears anyone who refuses to bow.

I see it in Palestine. I see it in Ukraine. I see it in the attacks on LGBTQ+ rights, on trans people, on people of color, on anyone who refuses to fit into the mold of what power wants them to be. I see it in governments that claim to protect “tradition” but are really just protecting control.

Because the truth is, equality scares the hell out of them.

A world where people are truly free—where women, queer people, trans people, Black and Brown people can be without fear—is a world where their power means nothing.

And that is why they fight so hard to keep us in line.

A Legacy of Refusal

I come from a history of both silence and defiance.

My great-uncle, a Projector, stood as a preacher in his church and spoke out against Hitler when others were too afraid. He knew the risk. He knew what would come. And still, he refused to bow.

The Nazis took him. They sent him to Dachau. They experimented on his body. They killed him.

They tried to break him, but what he stood for could not be broken.

And while the women in my family were dismissed and ignored, they did not bow either. My grandmother, my mother—they stood in their truth even when no one listened. Even when it cost them everything.

And I carry that forward.

Because if there is one thing I believe in with my entire being, it is this:

We were not put here to obey.

We were not put here to follow blindly, to accept the status quo, to shape ourselves into what makes others comfortable.

We are here to be fully, unapologetically ourselves.

And that is the greatest threat to a system built on control.

So, I Will Keep Going.

I will keep speaking, even when my voice shakes.

I will keep standing in my truth, even when the world tells me to sit down.

I will keep taking up space, not just for myself, but for every woman, every child, every person who has been told that they are too much, too loud, too different.

I have fought too hard to reclaim my voice.

I will not give it up again.

And if you stand with me in refusing to be silenced, then let’s continue this fight together.

We will not be erased. And our voices will never be silenced.

If this resonates with you, share this post, leave a comment, and let’s stand together. No more silence. No more shrinking. It’s time to take up space.