A nightmare belonging to a woman who no longer existed.
Now I stood before the most powerful people in the world and leaned toward the microphone.
“We are often taught that power is loud,” I began. “That power is control, intimidation, violence, and fear. We are taught that the person who wounds the deepest holds the authority.”
I paused.
“But true power is none of those things.”
The room stayed perfectly silent.
“Violence is the panic of the weak. It is the final language of a fragile ego terrified of its own insignificance.”
I looked out at the glittering skyline beyond the windows.
“True power is the ability to walk through hell and let the fire burn away everything you pretended to be for the comfort of others. True power is emerging from the ashes as exactly who you were always meant to become.”
For one long second, nobody breathed.
Then the ballroom erupted into a standing ovation.
I stepped back from the podium, head held high, emerald silk trailing behind me.
I did not bow.
