Now, when I sit in my kitchen in the evening, with the lights on and the heat humming and groceries in the refrigerator, I think about how close I came to disappearing inside my own life. I think about how easy it is for control to arrive dressed as concern. How easy it is to hand over authority one signature at a time. How quickly a person can become grateful for scraps if the people around her keep speaking in calm voices and calling it protection.
What I know now is simple.
Darkness does not always mean there is no light.
Sometimes it means someone has convinced you not to reach for the switch.
Sometimes the bravest thing a person can do is speak one plain word at the exact moment everyone else is hoping she will stay quiet.
Enough.
And courage, I have learned, begins the moment you stop sitting in the dark.