The Johari Window was presented to me by one of the best women I know in the whole world. I gave it a good deal of thought, and chose the word “brave” for the last word to describe her.

She is brave.

She is brave enough to try things and then stop doing them if they aren’t a good choice for her regardless of the consequences. She’s learned to say no, to question her socialization, and to think critically about the world.

That is brave.

* * *

Writing is dangerous for me. I tend to think and rethink and type and delete the words before I get too far. It is as if these pixels that form words on my screen are permanent even though they haven’t been published. I can’t unthink them, but I can make their manifestation, however fleeting, disappear with several pushes of the backspace button. I often publish things I am later embarrassed I wrote. Even if I get better, I suspect I will always feel that way.

Writing sometimes feels like cowardice. My recent post about misogyny and gender feels like a cop-out to be writing about it and not be out there doing something and saying something to someone who might be able to change the world. I’m not that person. I don’t know anyone who might be able to change anything about the world. I just write about it, sending my organized pixels out into the world for all 26 of you who read.