I heard an interview yesterday with a singer songwriter who told of going to screaming festivals when she was a kid. It was a great release to be able to lean back, let go, and let out whatever howl was inside. I thought about my childhood, my marriage, how different my life might be if I’d given myself that kind of permission. Instead, like the interviewer described the singer’s new, very quiet album, I did the “opposite of screaming.”

The opposite of screaming is telling yourself good night before you turn off the light because though you’re not alone, no one else will say it to you

The opposite of screaming is crying into your eggs as you stir them because though you’re not alone, no one else will share breakfast with you

The opposite of screaming is staying in the rocking chair for much longer than needed because though you’re not alone, no one else will want to talk with you after the baby’s gone to sleep

The opposite of screaming is knowing that your dog is your best friend because she’s the only one who’s excited to see you when you come back home

The opposite of screaming is getting licensed to a massage, so you can feel the skin of another human being

The opposite of screaming is having an affair with someone much younger than you just because they asked you to 

The opposite of screaming is leaving your marriage, writing your truth, and forgiving yourself every single day.