Stella Ho

There is a constant accompanying sense of anxiety when the notion of regret comes to mind. I worry about never having the chance to right past wrongs or achieve the goals I’ve once set out for myself.

In the chattering crowd seated on the floor of the shop, I could see a wide demographic of people present — young college students, parents with a child on their lap, older adults with a cane in hand. And at the center stood the authors: six women writers of color ready to share their stories with the crowd.

I didn’t like talking to strangers. I didn’t like performing in front of a crowd. I definitely didn’t like spontaneity and all the risks of failure that may come with it.