"I can speak, I am not afraid."
She spent a good part of her life yelling to be heard. It only worked because it was scary. “Listen to me! I am scary!”
What she felt was “I can’t speak! I am afraid!” That is what was behind all those frightful moments. Moments, some, she would carry deep with regret for years. Moments remembered with a heavy, coming and going, of unnecessary shame.
Who are you? She would ask herself those moments, before, during, after the storm. The answer was always, “Well, not that”. Definitely not that.
Somehow, some powerful way, the Universe was always saving her from those moments. Those “I can’t speak, I am afraid” moments. Now, they have faded. They can’t have her, so they don’t come. They have cowered in the depths of her throat over some years. Ganging up. Blocking. Stealing. Building force until they show themselves physically.
“Who’s scared now”, they yell!?
Not her. She sees you. Not only the outward bulge, but the pressing lump against the inside of her throat. You press her supply of sweet life blood stealing her oxygen. You can’t have her. You can’t have her voice. You don’t want it anyway, it is softer. She doesn’t want to yell to be heard, nor does she need to.
Don’t you know her? Have’t you seen in all the years that you have been hanging on, that although you have hindered her, you have not silenced her. She is finished being hindered.
So go. Go like the cancer you are. “I can speak! I am not afraid!”