Why I Go Quiet Around Loud People (It’s Not What You Think)

It starts out simple. A coffee date. Some sun. The old city in view. A quiet kind of magic.

You’re there — showing up, soft and open. Until she shows up too.

The new mom. The talker. The steamroller.

Five minutes in, and you already know how this will go: she’s not here to connect. She’s here to dominate. Every pause, she fills. Every comment, she tops. Every sentence, she hijacks with one of her own.

And you? You start to slip out of the moment. Not because you’re bored. Not because you have nothing to say.

But because your peace is too precious to waste.

I’ve been asked, “Are you bored?” more times than I can count. No. I’m just done pretending that loud equals right. I’ve already said what matters. I don’t feel like gossiping just to keep the energy up. And I won’t compete for air with someone who mistakes volume for value.

So I go quiet. And in that silence, I breathe.

In my head, I’m already walking through the old city. Breathing in the calm. Watching the sun slip between rooftops.

Meanwhile, she’s still talking. Loud. Rushed. Certain. Like certainty can replace self-awareness.

Here’s what I wish more people understood:

When someone goes quiet, they’re not being rude. They’re recalibrating. They’re protecting the few ounces of energy they’ve got left from being swallowed by chaos.

They’re choosing presence over performance. Stillness over spotlight.

Because not everyone wants to battle for attention. Some of us just want peace.

What to Remember When Someone Goes Quiet:

They’ve likely been steamrolled before. They’ve tried speaking up — and been cut off, ignored, or talked over. So they learned: silence feels safer.

They’re probably noise-sensitive. When chatter stacks and voices clash, it’s not just sound — it’s an assault on the senses. Quiet isn’t withdrawal. It’s survival.

They may be deeply observant. Not speaking isn’t a lack of substance — it’s full attention. They’re watching, reading the room, taking in nuance. That’s a strength.

They’ve said what mattered. They don’t need to fill space just to feel seen. They already said the truth. The rest? Isn’t worth the effort.

If You’re the Quiet One:

✔ Don’t question your calm. Honor it.

✔ Step outside for air — literally or mentally.

✔ Ground yourself with a breath, a sip of water, a glance at the horizon.

✔ Let your silence be your boundary.

If You’re the Loud One:

✔ Look around. Who’s being left behind?

✔ Ask: “Did you want to finish that thought?”

✔ Remember: the room isn’t a stage.

✔ Power isn’t in being heard. It’s in making space.

Quiet isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom. It’s restraint. It’s emotional intelligence in action.

So if you ever wonder why someone like me goes quiet — It’s not that I have nothing to say. It’s that I’m not here to shout over noise.

I’m here to keep my peace. And maybe, invite you to do the same.

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