I look out the window, the whole earth is covered in white, cold and beautiful. We no longer see what is happening on the ground, under the snow. We assume that time stops. In winter, it feels like the snow caresses you, problems disappear, we focus on the good and, more often than ever, look up.

Winter is my favorite time to heal inner turmoil. I have been taking cold baths for 8 years now, and it is the coldness of the winter water that appeals to me. My heated thoughts, anger that does not put peace about the injustices of the world, that I am unable to do anything there with words or power. Tears that break from my soul for every child who suffers, for a Mother, a woman, for Fathers who are good, but often no longer on this earth...

When I touch the cold, my tears seem to freeze into snowflakes and cover all my scars.

Then I feel easy. The cold stream of water clears my mind. Snow suppresses the volume, lightness appears. And then, after a great cold, I feel a source of warmth in my heart as fast as a burning sun, and I am even more able to appreciate what I have been given - life and breath! And then I come back to myself again, to my truth and experience, which is as big as an iceberg.

Everyone can see the end of it. The pinnacle of my great experience, majestically unfolding from a distance. But what a small fraction only guess is the extent of my iceberg. No one can imagine and see what it was made of, how it grew, what its measure is, what this story is. It is covered by thick dark water where you cannot see the depth itself.

Violence. Here the time of my future thoughts stops. Plunge into the veins of dark waters. only the cold can soothe this pain for a while, but it does not save from the size of the iceberg itself, which is hidden by a large amount of water.

As thick as mud, as ugly as dung, so complex and complicated is this topic, which I would like to freeze and dissolve into pieces like never before, but it is impossible. Only time, a long time, can melt parts of the iceberg. Warmer water would help the most.

There is so much to say that I don't even want to speak because I don't know how. I don't know how to tell what is so ugly, painful, still existing in this world. But I will try to find a flame that warms more than the sun, which is so few in the dark, because I know that there are more victims of violence than we can imagine.

I am affected by violence, I am aware of it. Am I hiding it? Yes. Am I doing it on purpose? Yes. Avoid talking about it? Yes! But I always have a question for myself - why? And even now I ask myself the same question.

I don't reveal myself to anyone. My scars covered with water every time I continued to grow. It has always been so. And the water has hidden my growing scars.

Even now, realizing what I experienced at different stages in life, I feel ashamed. Simply because I had to face something like that. To be specific, then throwing out, humiliating, physically spitting in the face. I have experienced firsthand how strangers hit me, starting from kindergarten, then in later years at my workplace. I have experienced sexual harassment from men at my workplace and elsewhere.

I have been ridiculed, pressured, talked about, teased and seen the danger of violence in front of me when someone wants to beat someone to death, threatens, psychologically humiliates and so on.

In my opinion, the reason why we haven't had to talk much about the consequences of violence and the violence itself is the fact that the size of the iceberg is hidden in the depths of the water - in society, which like water hides the large size of violence. A society that turns away from the ugly, the loud, the outwardly so visible, the painful. A society that allows evil to drown without wanting to hear about it.

We celebrate painful moments in history, but turn away from the face of a bruised woman. We pretend not to hear the children who are screaming for help. We celebrate the high class in the arts, but only a few speak, then receive public misunderstanding.

Yes, we live in a very ugly human world, scary, harsh, hot and so stiff. It hasn't been long since it was normal to speak a physical language, influencing each other both physically and morally. We are still trying not to drown in the grandparent experience. We, the children of our parents, try to take a breath, as much as possible, deeper, so that we can last longer under the pressure of this water.

All this dark water that hides the size of the iceberg - society, our parents, our grandparents, colleagues, friends, who can make this topic clear, visible, worthy of attention in order to educate society in a different way. We are all responsible. Why do we still like to drown ourselves in the depths where we are not seen or heard?

And it is difficult if the parents themselves bring up from the beginning that dirty laundry should not be washed in public because it stinks. The truth in general stinks a lot these days. I honestly don't know a single person who doesn't lie or pretend. Violence grows legs every day to escape from those who talk about it.

From time to time there are glimpses of those affected by violence.

All this seems pointless because it does not reduce the violence as such. And in my view, the answer should not be sought in the result or in the violence itself, but in its root - in the deepest depths. What is it that allows us as a society to tolerate beatings, bullying and humiliation?

We should think about this issue and speak out loud! It makes sense if we ask questions and talk about what is important to increase respect and change the perception of a person, an individual on this Earth. The roots can be found in the family, in our upbringing, customs, virtues and vices. And, in my opinion, everything starts here - education, knowledge given by the family, given by the state and every individual who is responsible.

My world is a very unsafe place. I have always felt alone here. I don't trust anyone. I don't trust anyone. That's how it is, I'm not hiding it. these are the great consequences of what has happened to me, with which I grow everyday. And there are many of us.

We are not friends, we are against each other. this is how I perceive society in general. Those who are able to fight the most, lynching behind their backs, to put a smile on someone's face the sweetest, win. And that's because we, as a society, hide this ugly truth.

Growing up I have always been afraid of everything I do, but not doing it is also not an option in this life. Thank God, I have stubbornness in me! It makes me grow a stronger spirit through the pain to go on. Because, in my opinion, there is no other option to live! I once had a motto: "I am born alone and I die alone. I give value to everything that comes my way. What matters is what is in my life, how I lead my life, not someone else from the outside." I went everywhere with this motto, because I realized that no one who does my best or says sweet words can save me like I can save myself! And so began my relationship with myself.

Listening, being aware of all events, piles of notes about thoughts, feelings, experiences, analyses, piles of letters to those to whom I want to say something. All this is burned or stored away from time to time, then I feel freer. And I am able to fill myself with what spreads my wings to live!

I will drink such water as I want, and not subsist on what others give me. If I am water, I can choose what shape to fit. I can choose what to be. My solid foundation is so heavy that it often pulls me down into very ugly thoughts, but I don't give in, I try to be different in those moments like water. This is my art of survival.

When writing this story, I want to say with my little experience: "Violence is an iceberg. We can fight it only by starting from its root. The person himself, his understanding of the world, because we can help others without beating others, without humiliating them, if we make ourselves smarter, smarter, more empathetic, more understanding. Those who are worth listening to, those from whom society wants to take an example."

And one thing is clear - we need to talk! Talking is golden, not silence as the old saying goes. Man is given language to be able to express and talk about feelings. And no one said that you need to talk a lot; you have to say what's worth it!

None of us likes to look the darkness in the eyes, listen to the ugly, does not like loudness and howling. But it should also be the case that we cry for the souls of others and thus help ourselves to become better parents for our children, more secure adults in society, because a large part of adults are still children who do not know how to speak other than to humiliate and beat, because that is how they grew up.

We have to start accepting the size of the iceberg and realize that each of us is the water that hides the size of the iceberg, the water in which someone who needs help is drowning, the water that, in agreement with others, can create a revolution.

Article author: Ieva Florence-Vīksne