Being Their Voice

I walked into a gathering of people last night absolutely exhausted. I had the usual “I am fine” smile on my face, with no intention of unloading the hurt I was carrying. Suddenly I was disarmed. “Sharon, how has your week been…REALLY?” I muttered something less than eloquent, when “My daughter hurts herself a lot, and I don’t know what to do” came out of my mouth. I couldn’t take it back, and I immediately felt the panic that so often happens when we veer from fake surface-level social conversations. Then I heard the words I didn’t expect to hear. “Oh yeah, we’ve been there, and are there, too.” 

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