One of my loved ones recently had some harsh words for me in response to an open discussion about who I am, what I believe, and what matters most. (Spoiler alert: this includes standing against abusers, elevating the voices of survivors, and not giving money to companies, brands, or artists who support violence and misogyny.) It was a deeply upsetting conversation for a lot reasons. I told them how important it is that I use my voice and try to make a positive difference...and I was told that my efforts do not make a difference and do not matter. That I will not create change. That I am being ridiculous. Of course, I have been thinking about this conversation a lot in recent days as I try to figure out how to move forward with someone who completely disregards the most important parts of me. In truth, it is not something I quite know how to do.

Here's the thing. I have been shy, socially anxious, and downright ashamed of who I am for as long as I can remember. As a child, I was always hard on myself (probably because everyone else was) and had a hard time feeling that I belonged anywhere. I often felt like I was on the outside looking in. That is the reason I turned to the written word. Reading books and being swept away from the safety of my bedroom...writing stories and feeling less overwhelmed by my emotions...words were my hiding place and my shelter. Though I still struggle to use my physical voice in certain social situations, the written word has long been my companion. Writing is the way I speak out. It is the way I express, share, and work towards a better world. To have someone I love tell me that my voice does not matter hurt more than I can describe. It was a betrayal of the deepest sense.