LIFE is a feminist issue. Story of growing up girl.

Everytime I speak my mind about things that matter to me I...

always want to win, says my father
am a bit heavy, says my brother.
am the crazy one, says my friend's husband.
am obsessed, says N.

My voice must seem like a thunder on a clear sky, the rumble of the avalanche, the shaking of the earthquake. It is unexpected, sudden, threatening. It is an alarm, loud and piercing: it alerts of a possible attack and danger.

I am only speaking for God's sake!!

It is not my intention to scare anyone.

 I keep talking but I stop saying. And gradually, in all that silence, amidst all that stillness, the most basic opinions start resonating like roars in a valley. Too few voices everywhere. The more quiet I try to be the louder I am, it seems.
And the most destructive.

It is not what I want! It is not how I meant it to be! It is not who I am!

No more pops in the sky. Now the sound is regular. It is the lulling voice of planes on a London sky, of trains running at the edge of a garden, of traffic on a main road. The voice is there, constant and repetitive, present and reliable.

I am here.
I am staying.
My life.
My terms.
My way.
It may take some getting used to.

That is all I am saying. Listening is what is needed.

Or I will say it. And say it. And say it...