Rae Giana Rashad

I would never know how it felt to walk boldly because this world wasn’t mine. My tears would never be a weapon. There was no patience for my softness, my wounds, my unraveling. There was no protection for me, a Black girl, no tender touch, no consideration for a delicate exterior. No space to scream. Somehow, Dalena was born knowing this. But I wasn’t Dalena or Henriette, who had formed calluses on the inside. I still wanted.