But it turns out for me that carrying on isn’t enough. Holding my head high and rising above doesn’t make me feel strong or fierce. It makes me feel stifled. Almost as if I’m choking on a tiny injustice and that one of these days, the right injustice in the right shape and size is going to lodge itself in my throat and take my voice and my very last breath. Therefore, the only reliable protection for me is to speak up.
