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I didn’t set out to heal. I just wanted to feel something real.
A Childhood of Quiet Rooms and Unspoken Things
Writing toward wholeness. Listening for the quiet parts.
A Childhood of Quiet Rooms and Unspoken Things
I’m Caleb, a writer, a questioner, and someone who’s spent a long time trying to figure out what it means to live on their own terms.
I was born in Far North Queensland and raised in Malanda, a small town where cows outnumber people and the quiet stretches for miles. My family wasn’t big on affection. We didn’t do deep chats or shared feelings. Mostly, we co-existed. My parents split later in life, but the disconnect started much earlier. My siblings and I don’t really talk now. That kind of silence builds slowly until it becomes the new normal.
As a kid, I was soft. Sensitive. I noticed everything — the mood in a room, the tension that lived in silence. I got picked on for being gay before I even understood what it meant. That kind of thing sticks. I spent years wondering if I was always meant to be this way, or if I just became what other people decided I was.
I didn’t talk about any of it. I just got good at fitting in. Smiling. Staying agreeable. Trying not to…
