(Photo by Lilly)
Can I tell you something?
There is a story, burning inside my heart.
It’s begging to be crafted, it’s asking to be told.
But it’s not just my story, though it is very much my story.
It’s also my grandma’s story, my mother’s story and even my great grandmother’s story.
And I realize it’s so many other woman’s story too.
But I just sit here, feeling the burden of this story and wonder
Is it really my story to tell?
Why must I be the one to tell it?
And I hear the whispered answers to my questions: If you don’t tell it who will?
And I know if I don’t tell it, it may never be told.
But this is quite a burden for a young girl such as myself.
I think the story, and everyone else, thinks I am much bigger and braver than I am.
Because I am not sure if I have it in me to tell this story.
But I will take the baby steps necessary.
I’ll learn to be just fine with the possibility of failing.
And I’ll cling to the thought that there is probably some other young girl or older girl out there needing to hear my story, to have the bravery to share her own.
Yes, that. This story, my story, their story, its her story too.
And its a story that has been silent for too long.
A story I must offer to the world.