The two ladies standing beside me were as frustrated as I was. We had descended into the dark T station, waiting for the next train – way too long ago now. The trains kept coming and the crowds surrounding us kept pushing in. We had no way of making our way into any of the subway cars when they came to a stop and the doors slid open. Each train was packed. PACKED.
I wake to another morning’s headline news of allegations of sexual misconduct. I think of the woman who has had to guts to step forward and speak up. So many voices encouraging this vulnerability, but at the same time- so many voices saying BE QUIET. Was she worried that no one would believe her?
Bodies were pushed up against the glass and as each car pulled to a stop, I waited for the doors to open and people to fall out. But no one was going anywhere. Every passenger held on and stayed in.
We were stuck in the eternal wait. Absolutely no room.
Why so many women coming forward now? Can the world handle another story? Is there space for her truth? What will happen next? What will this accomplish? Will this be a step towards healing?
I didn’t know Boston. Moments ago now, I learned that not only was this Boston Marathon day, it was an all city celebration. Patriot’s Day here and apparently no one had to work. The Red Sox were playing, the marathoners were running, the college students were way ahead in the drinking and the crowds were unbelievable. The air was electric.
And right now, I was in a sticky situation.
Does the world really want to know the truth?
My only job today was to get to mile 22 outside the city. That was where I would wait to watch my husband sprint by with thousands of other runners. How would I get there if the T was 100% full each time it stopped? We had come this far and if I didn’t act, I would miss everything. As time passed, I became a student. I watched and learned. Here it was, if you want to get on— you had to force your way in.
I’m listening. I want to know the truth.
Whatever it takes, I commanded my trembling self, you will do this.
My heart beat a little faster while I gave myself a pep talk. The women who shared in my earlier dismay had just made their way onto a stuffed train car. Now I knew for sure, it could and would be done.
I hear you.
The trains were busy and they were coming fast. The next one would be mine, no matter what.
Eyes, ears and heart open now.
The metal car pulled up right to me. It was all I needed to know it was time. Faces pressed against the glass, glaring out, daring me to try and find a way in. Doors opened. I stride straight into a wall of people and claim my tiny bit of air, right inside the heavy door. Looking no one in the eye, I made sure every piece of my body had no chance of getting left behind as the doors snapped shut.
There is room for your story.
And just like that we were propelled down the tunnel together, a blur now. There was a reshuffling of hands and I found a spot on the sweaty pole to grasp and steady myself.