But where was my actual power? I knew that it didn’t reside in my hurt and rage, at least as they existed in raw or unfiltered forms. My power lay in whatever I could manage to do with that hurt and rage, where I could take it, what sort of destination I chose for it. It hinged on whether or not I could elevate those rawer feelings into something that would become harder for others to write off, which was a clear message, a call to action, and a result I was willing to work for.
