My electric toothbrush has seen it all. I usually look in the mirror when I’m brushing my teeth, and for a while last fall, I often cried when I stared into my own eyes.
I did my best to hold it together in front of my sons—most of the time, anyway. But the mask often cracked when I met my own gaze.
Deep sobs set to the gentle hum of my sonic. Life was just that overwhelming—with medical issues, a loved one’s shock diagnosis, and countless other challenges too numerous to list.
Then one day, after months of carrying more emotional weight than I had in decades, I decided to start again. And that toothbrush became a microphone.
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