Quiet Weeks

The Space I Was Told to Take Up

I haven't written in a couple of weeks. Not because I ran out of things to say, but because somewhere in the quiet, a much older thought crept back in: that my voice didn't matter.

It started small. My family was in Mexico, having a great time, and I wasn't there. That's not really the story — it was just the indication, the little crack that let something bigger through. I called a friend and vented. She listened, and she was honest: yes, they should get to enjoy themselves, and yes, it's okay that it hurt. That was it. Fair, and true, and it didn't fix anything — because the ache was never really about Mexico.

It was about something much older.

Want to read more?

Subscribe to heathermcadam.com to keep reading this exclusive post.

Subscribe Now