This is a video clip of me reading an excerpt from “A Letter to Someone Who Hurt You” at Sparkle, the queer spoken word event at Busboys & Poets every first Sunday. I am now somewhat regretting reading this piece, but not because it isn’t consistently in my top ten AND the most searched-for post internally. It’s because if you don’t know that I’m an INFJ preacher’s kid who wants to start a church of her own someday, I sound like a megalomaniac who had Adderrall for breakfast (for the record, I did not).
I suppose I also wanted to take ownership of the things I’ve done and left undone in a different medium. I’ve only read that piece out loud once, and that was in my therapist’s office. When I was finished, she said, “wow. You really know how to rip yourself a new one.” I said, “at my age, who else is going to do it?” I’m not a child anymore. Other adults do not have the right to correct me the way I have the right to correct myself. I’m kind of authoritative about it, but I take myself out for ice cream afterwards when I have to lay down my own law. There are just some things I will not tolerate out of me anymore, and getting fed up is part of being wiling to change.
Stories That Are All True 