I remember sixth grade like it was yesterday. My mom kept saying that one day I would actually have boobs like the rest of my friends. But at 51, I'm still a bit too small to fit into an A cup. As much as I've poked fun at my boobs over the years, I wouldn't change them for all the money in the world.
One of the scariest moments in training with Nacho was when we faced a huge tree-removal truck that was completely blocking the sidewalk and was actively, loudly, aggressively shredding an old tree trunk into wood chips. The way forward was blocked, and the noise was enormous, much louder than anything Nacho and I had faced thus far.
For as long as I can remember, I've hidden myself. I definitely started hiding when I got old enough to walk down my NY streets alone. I became comfortable hiding my intelligence, my physical appearance, my truths, my thoughts, myself. But just the other day it hit me: Alicia! Why are you choosing to be that person?