Lately, I have returned to Lorde's essay. I find that I need to remind myself that adopting silence won't protect me from all the people, mostly men, who have hurt me, nor will silence erase the trauma I've endured at their hands. Silence, she reminds me, doesn't do us any good. It can devour us from the inside out.
“Dreams fall apart; sometimes they never get put back together. People leave us. Alcohol helps us forget — if it doesn’t kill us first. Steel guitars, accents, and the familiar lyrics were the rhythms of my childhood.”