I have been taught to save parts of myself for others. My thoughts, they say, mean more when they are unvocalized. My body, I’ve been taught, is a greater gift when I keep it hidden away. I am better swallowed, kept apart, not listened to, not shared, not publicized, stuck in the shadows, invisible, forgotten. I have learned to sit down, stay quiet, and always cross my legs. I have learned how to speak only when spoken to. I know how to be silent. I know how to be sweet. I have had extensive lessons in both. But I do not know how to be me.