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I was born without a voice, one cold, overcast day in Brooklyn, New York. No one ever spoke of my condition. I did not know I was mute until years later, when I opened my mouth to ask for what I wanted and realized no one could hear me. Where I come from, voicelessness is the condition of my gender,
a woman will always be a woman.
Perhaps that was why she had spent her childhood with a book in front of her face, trying to make sense of her life through stories. Books were her only reliable source of comfort, her only hope.
She often wondered how many people felt this way, spellbound by words, wishing to be tucked inside a book and forgotten there.
“They have no idea what it means to be a woman in this world.”
&& still don’t
“A real choice doesn’t have conditions. A real choice is free.”
“The cruelest thing on this earth is a man’s heart.”
The shame of her gender was engraved on her bones.
