Christmas in July
You'd think I'd be a tough-as-nails person by now, but I'm not. Each time I speak up about an injustice, the girl inside of me crawls into a tight ball, as if to protect herself from an impending head-on crash. I know that might sound rather dramatic, but speaking up is a risky venture. In fact, during the past three decades, I have been on the receiving end of death threats, beatings, and job, family, and friend loss as a result of sharing my truth.
So, in the time between now and whatever the future may hold, regarding my latest effort to break the silence, I am doing the only logical thing I can: hug my knees and hum out-of-season holiday tunes to an empty room.
(at family dinners I played the role of Very Nice Houseplant)
On paper, the difference between speaking with someone versus speaking to someone is quite superficial. Insignificant, perhaps. “Why even bother analyzing this?” you might ask. In terms of semantics, however, the difference between those two is as significant as crossing a pond versus navigating an ocean.
in the Pacific