“I’m Evelyn.” She reaches out and takes my hand, shaking it. It strikes me as a unique form of power to say your own name when you know that everyone in the room, everyone in the world, already knows it.
I turn the water to nearly scalding hot. I love water so hot it almost burns. I love the smell of shampoo. My happiest place might just be under a showerhead. It is here in the steam, covered in suds, that I do not feel like Monique Grant, woman left behind. Or even Monique Grant, stalled writer. I am just Monique Grant, owner of luxury bath products.
İrade veya tutku gibi kelimelerin ne anlama geldiğini irdelememeye karar vermişti çünkü güvenmesi gerekenin, benliğini yönlendirmek adına sürekli tekrar ettiği bu kelimeler değil, kendi sağduyusu olduğunu anlamıştı.