They expected a woman like me to disappear quietly. I chose the opposite. I'm 64. Ethiopian by birth. American by necessity. And I've been called many things: Revolutionary. Refugee. Doctor. Mother. Liar. Lover. Ghost. Parkinson's is hijacking my body one tremor at a time, but my mind is still sharp. Before it steals anything else, I'm taking it all back: my story, my silence, my name. And I'm finally facing what I left buried...a child I lost, and a son who tried to bury me. Through it all, there's still laughter-sisters who coax me into reckless road trips and drag me to sip-and-paint (don't ask about the bananas and eggplants). This is the year I finally say yes to risk, pleasure, and the woman I smothered just to survive. I'm not here to be pitied. I'm here to outlive every lie.
Bitte wählen Sie Ihr Anliegen aus.
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