This is the 9th essay in the #26essays2017 challenge that I’ve set for myself this year. I’m doing this because I’m the first to admit I’ve become a lazy writer: allowing guest posts and series and cross-posting to make up the bulk of content on The Diane Lee Project across 2016. The brave, fearless writing that readers admired and respected me for has all but disappeared. This year—2017—will be different. I’m reclaiming my voice—my write like a motherfucker voice! I have never experienced anything like this in my life. Silenced. Being with two expat men—one in particular—who refused to let me speak. Who wanted to shut
Continue reading...It’s funny how 24 hours can change your perspective. This post was *not* going to be about kindness. It was going to be about head fuckery (mine), and epiphanies (mine) and calling out bad behaviour (not mine). It was *so* not going to be a kind post. It was going to be a mean and small and revengeful post, albeit an enlightening and highly entertaining one. This post was going to be about as far away from kindness as one could get. But. I’ve been thinking a lot about kindness lately. I’ve been thinking about how kindness touches my soul more than just about
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