Emptying
out of my mother's belly was my first act of
disappearance; learning to shrink for a family who likes
their daughters invisible was the second. The art of being
empty is simple: Believe them when they say you are nothing.
Repeat it to yourself like a wish; I am nothing I am
nothing I am nothing so often that the only reason you
know you're still alive is from the heaving of your
chest.
— Rupi Kaur,
The Art of Being
Empty
