I sat there trying to listen attentively as others shared their personal narratives, or variations thereof. But my mind was on my own story—the words I had put together...words from my heart and soul. I had worked so hard to create this piece, and it had taken a turn I hadn't expected. I realized I was nervous to share. My hands were shaking as I fidgeted. I kept re-reading the lines on the pages in front of me, hoping to lessen the blow. But, now it was my turn. I took a deep breath and let the words flow.

And I listened. It was as if I was hearing it for the first time. For some reason hearing my own voice speaking the very same words I had written on paper, seeing all those faces, non-judgmental in their observation, I felt the memory of the truth of those precious words. I felt the years of wondering and the poignant questions simmering just under the surface of my heart, so close to the edge I could see over it. And looking into that expanse, I peered back into my own soul and realized there was pain. It wasn't that I hadn't known it existed. It's that I thought I was beyond it. But there it was. Buried under selfish desires and memories of childhood, existing. Even though I had read those words aloud countless times…listened to my voice, foreign and unrefined, whispering them under my breath so I could listen to their sounds… Still, I felt the pain and loneliness and questions and confusion and anger bubble up. Seeming to boil over the edge—tumble into the crevasse and fall.

The tears began to spew forth, threatening to endanger the words as they flowed past my lips, as if simply not saying them would render them false. As if becoming mute would take back everything I had already said and make me forget again. And they almost won. I could have given in—let them take over and engulf me. Succumb to the truth of those words and let the pain reign over me. But with strength, I pushed them away, knowing that in speaking them aloud, I could truly move beyond. Wiping away the complex feelings of abandonment and un-want, real though they are and always have been, I finished my final sentence, and I felt free.