We are only powerless when we stay quiet. We are only powerless when we believe our voice is less valuable than everyone else’s. Our voice is a patchwork of of all the days we were too afraid to leave our homes, all the days we thought we’d wasted because all we did was hide. Our voice is made up of all the people we have listened to, all the people who have disagreed with us or loved us. All those who have left us, all those who ignored us.
Our voices should be heard even though we are whispering. Our voices can be heard if we shout but I don’t want to shout. And when I have been heard, I will be ready to listen.
Inspired by a Wild Women Wisdom poetry workshop.
