I'm afraid of elevators, because they are an enclosed space, but I get in.
I have watched lives change. I have seen women gain confidence.
In my version of paradise, the air was always cold and the rivers ran with candy.
Because that’s the thing about the exact moment when you get somewhere that has required effort: There’s a freeze-frame instant of total fulfillment, when every expectation has been met and the world is perfect.
Women in Somalia face almost unimaginable oppression.
I, too, was carrying around my own fate. All the things I couldn't know sat somewhere inside, embroidered into me-maybe not quite fixed to the point of inevitability but waiting, in any event, for a chance to unspool.