The Meeting After the Meeting

It is possible to say something honest in a meeting and then spend the journey home worrying how it sounded. I have done this. My head can turn a room full of people trying to help into an imaginary panel of judges.

What usually stays with me, though, is not whether I spoke well. It is the moment somebody else described a thought I believed belonged only to me.

Connection does not require a polished account. Sometimes it begins with a sentence you nearly kept to yourself, or with listening to someone whose circumstances look nothing like yours until you recognise the feeling underneath.

I spent years managing what people could see. Being known seemed risky. It turned out that keeping everything hidden had risks of its own.