And the secret—if you can even call it that—remained quietly mine.
What Silence Taught Me
It taught me:
How much people project onto silence
How easily authority is assumed—or denied—based on labels
How often conversations are about performance, not truth
And how powerful it can be to listen without correcting
I had spent a career being heard because of my rank.
In my family, I learned how to be heard without it.
Do I Regret It?
Not really.
Sometimes I imagine telling her now, casually, years later. Watching the mental recalibration. The awkward laugh. The sudden recontextualization of every past conversation.
But then I imagine the follow-up questions.
And the explanations.
And the way it would subtly shift how she looks at me.
And I think… why?
The truth doesn’t always need an audience.
I never told my sister-in-law that I was a Colonel in Army Intelligence.
Not because I was hiding.
But because I didn’t need to be seen that way to know who I was.
And maybe—that’s the most intelligence-driven decision I ever made.
