Don’t Teach Me to Speak and then Tell Me Not to Use My Words

my mother taught me how to stand up for myself. she taught me how to give speeches to rooms of hundreds with shaking hands, I learned to throw my voice off any wall I stood near. 

she told me eye contact is the best way to speak to someone. you don't need a heartbreaking story when eyes can reach people deeper than words will ever be able to. 

she taught me how to present myself, how to show somebody that I have something to say. my words are just as important as any they'll ever read. 

she told me that if I speak clear enough, stare hard enough, if I throw my words at anyone who is willing to listen, 

I will find somewhere to stand. 

but when I was fourteen she told me not to use my words. she took back every lesson she had taught me about throwing my voice across rooms to reach anyone I could. 

After being told to present myself in a way that demanded attention, I was told to back down, "step back, don't say that." she told me I was using my words wrong. I had chosen the wrong cause to stand for. 

After years of learning the importance of eye contact. I was told to look away. "don't look at them, stop staring." she told me eye contact made me seem defensive. I used to give my words to anyone who would listen, tossing them around in desperation. 

Now I'm saving them, giving them to those who need them, throwing my words like lifeboats to the drowning. 

I found somewhere to speak, and here I am, still standing.