A voice lost, a lesson learned.

Second year of University was the year things really started to slip. Immense, self-imposed pressure, relentless deadlines, and a growing realisation of the disparity between the actual and perceived experience of University life started spitting over the sides of the cook’s neglected pot. I, the cook, had taken a vacation from everything. I just up and left. Dissociation, I think they call it.

The thing about this dissociation, the really horrible thing about it is how it makes you become transparent. Ethereal, half made, half mad, and half dead, I ambled, no, groped about the campus most days with my headphones in. I watched people silently, wistfully hoping that I would be noticed, desperately afraid of the idea as well.

It’s strange when you are surrounded by so many people, but you’ve never felt more alone. Isolation is uglier when you see the opposite everywhere you go. Students laughing and talking together. I felt shame, and anger, and desperation. I felt like a dying tree with screaming roots. Frantically I flexed my feelers through baron earth. Water never came.

Unsettling above all was how I knew I was all of those things, all of those emotions, and yet, I couldn’t feel a thing. I remember attempting to will myself to cry on many occasions. I knew I needed to, but the rain just wouldn’t come. I sometimes imagined myself in tears. I imagined a version of myself who was screaming, projecting imaginary tears, a continuous white water rapid across an ugly creasing vista, but it was only an image. I could not will it into being.

When I came home. When I finally finished University for the second year, I cried for a week. I was a mess. The dam broke, the cork popped, the banks burst, the rain poured, the wave crashed. Out came a half year’s worth of pain in a week. It was miserable, but it brought relief.

My parents were an incredible support during that time. They helped me in ways I cannot explain. My father stayed with me and talked to me when I needed. My mother treated me in her own way, the practical way she knows by checking how my health was and seeing that I was fed. I am incredibly lucky to have a family like this, and I have not appreciated it fully in the past. Reconnecting with them like this has healed me and made us closer. Sometimes it takes a mighty fall to grasp the olive branch that was always there to support you.

After I was well enough, I started to bury my head in books again. I was looking for something and it was as a direct result of coming through the misery I had experienced. Feeling transparent, like a ghost, I had no voice. I had faded completely, become a waif with the power only to observe. I never wanted to feel like that again. It’s like dying without the privilege of blissful ignorance. A privilege (I imagine) the actual dead get to have. Nevertheless, being entombed in silence was revelatory. I knew that I never wanted to lose my voice again, and, in fact, I would spend as long as I needed to make my voice more powerful than it had ever been before.

It has been my journey in the last few months as I recover, to find my voice again. To speak up and thrust myself into the world where it was before so happy to let me exist as the whisper in the wind. We cannot be muted victims of our experiences, we must become criminally loud and make the world hear us when it would rather ignore us. From silent lowlands to cacophonic peaks, I will rally.

And here we are.

Millennials have had a difficult time finding their feet and their voice while the world looks to us in contempt or with indifference, but we have a responsibility to fight back. The litany of structures which impede us are massive. PC culture is pervasive. The left has come to experience the type of crushing silence that nearly destroyed my voice and have retaliated. It attempts to protect victims by censoring and silencing and views itself primarily as a commodity of victimhood.

I can’t allow that to be my destiny. I will take responsibility for my voice, I will push myself to be louder and make myself heard. Marcus Aurelius, the last of the five good roman emperors surmised: The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way..

  • I am not at the mercy of anyone but myself.
  • My voice is always my own.
  • I am responsible for the choices I make.

Now that we’ve arrived at this conclusion, get really damn loud about what you have to say. Let the world know you are here and that you mean to stay.

Similar story you want to share as a millennial? Contact us!

Millennial Intent: We’ll be trying for victory, not victimisation.

This is Millennial Intent

Why are we here?

A prevailing sense of apathy, hopelessness and self-mediocritisation amongst millennials has persisted for too long and has been ratified by the media and the preceding generations. MI hopes that millennials will begin to reclaim their voices, their presence in this world, and their sense of pride in themselves. Aside from that broad aim, we are a platform for the discussion of ideas. We do not support Political Correctness or the idea of safe spaces and trigger warnings. Our content will explore some of the dark stuff as well as the light, but the point is that discussion breeds resolution. Censorship is the enemy of our generation, and if we want to bring ourselves into our place in society with power, dignity and kindness, we need to create places where censorship has no power. We hope we can at least contribute to this end by establishing an online community that supports these values and encourages individuals to claim back their often drowned out voices.

What do we do?

We write articles on millennial matters. We are starting off slow, but we want to pick up steam. This is a collective activity, but we want to be clear that we do not support collective mentality. Our articles are aimed at unique, insightful, thought-provoking topics from intelligent and independent authors. Is there a limit on scope? No! We write about anything and everything, but want to make sure it has value and intent towards the largest goal – making millennials mobilise. We want to kickstart hearts and minds with our material and that central idea underpins our creative works.

What can you do?

Because we value the individual millennial opinion, we welcome amateur writers, artists and content makers in general to get involved. We believe in collaboration and growth. If you have an idea that you want to share, we will listen. If you don’t agree with something someone else said, we will let you have your say. If you want to contribute, we will help you find a way to get into that position. What sets us apart is that this is about you, the individual voice in the crowd. So, keep that in mind. If you’re not used to writing, we can give you guidance. We want lived experiences, new insight, creative design. Learning how to put it into words is the last puzzle piece and if we like your unique insight, we won’t hesitate to give you the time and energy to get your words in order.

So, this is where we begin, and we’ll be posting more soon. Start following us to start reclaiming your voice. Let’s change minds and take back our power.

Millennial Intent.

To write for us send an email on the contact page and we’ll get back to you asap. Contact us!