Breaking Through

CHAPTER TWO

Sticking Your Neck Out

Muster the Courage for Candor

I WAS TWENTY-FIVE IN THE SUMMER OF 1986, WORKING IN Washington, DC, as a legislative correspondent in a senator’s mailroom. I was fortunate that my first job gave me a chance to explore my fledgling interests in writing and politics. Everything was going well except for one not-so-small detail about me that I hadn’t disclosed to the most important people in my life, my parents. I’d been preparing to make this disclosure for several years, maybe since I was a girl. There was a 100 percent chance of the talk going badly; it was only a question of how badly. I practiced my lines as I commuted by foot along DC’s downtown sidewalks to and from work on Capitol Hill. I rehearsed in front ...