She was not powerless.
When I left through that door to go to the ball, nothing seemed the same anymore.
Neither the house.
Nor the people who lived there.
Not even me.
They had made fun of the dress.
But they never understood it.
It wasn’t a question of what it had to say.
It was about my roots.
From what I had with me.
Of what I refused to lose.
That night, I did not feel invisible.
I didn’t feel small.
