Would you like to add truth to your darkness? I welcome your truth here.

There’s a particular ache that comes with being a mother in later years, carrying truths you’ve never spoken aloud. Silence is heavy — sometimes heavier than the pain itself. For decades I stayed quiet, believing it was my duty to protect my children, my family, and even the legacies of those who wounded me.

But silence has a cost. It erases the storyteller, leaves shadows unchallenged, and leaves the next generation unprepared to understand what shaped them.

Now, at nearly seventy-one, I am publishing a memoir. Not because it is easy — it isn’t. Some days it makes me sick with fear. But it is necessary. My story, like so many women’s stories, deserves to live in the light.

I know some will see it as betrayal — a mother turning on her own children by dredging up the past. That breaks my heart, because no mother sets out to hurt her children. I have veiled names, softened details, and bent over backward to protect my family. But even veiled, truth cuts close.

Here’s what I hope my children — and anyone reading — will understand: I am not writing against them. I am writing for myself, for the girl I once was who endured what she never should have, and for the countless others still sitting in silence wondering if their voices matter.

Mothers know this paradox well: we spend our lives giving ourselves away, shielding those we love from pain. But when it comes time to speak, we’re told it’s selfish — even dangerous. The truth is, silence is its own kind of betrayal. A betrayal of our own souls.

So I choose me. And in choosing me, I hope to light a path for others: women in their sixties, seventies, and beyond who are carrying untold stories in their bones. It is not too late to speak. Your words matter. Your truth matters. You matter.

If you’re wrestling with that same choice — whether to stay quiet or to speak — know this: you are not alone. Truth will always be misunderstood by some. But it may also set someone else free. And that, to me, is worth walking through the fire.

This space is open to you. If you are carrying a story in silence, I invite you to share your truth here. Your words are welcome.