Unbound: My Story of Liberation and the Birth of the Me Too Movement

by Tarana Burke

We didn’t get the air to be reborn and handled warmly.

Where had her shame gone? How had it not seeped into her cells, and if it had, how did she get it out?

what I saw was real, how could a body that holds that kind of pain also hold joy?

There is no question that self-hate severely limits one’s capacity to love fully and wholeheartedly.

If unkindness is indeed a serial killer, then my revelation is that I was my own murderer. I had taught myself to bend to my own unkindness first, so that I would be able to withstand the unkindness of others. I will not bend anymore.