I feared…

to raise my voice and not know if anyone is listening.

to raise my voice and not know if anyone cares to hear what I have to say.

to raise my voice and stumble over my words.

to raise my voice and they hear and they hate what I am saying.

to raise my voice and have nothing come out.

to raise my voice and sound like a fool.

And the fear kept me mute.

Fear kept me voiceless — in a prison of my own making.

For so long I wandered and wondered weary, “Why is this so hard? Why is womanhood and motherhood seem like such a fight?” 

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