With that escape of mine and how much my life in Russia hurt me, I tapped into something so critical to everyone and yet something so guarded by those whose thumb we are under. It is our own freedom. Especially women’s freedom. Because women, the lesser, dumber beings, have no right of freedom. Women, themselves, are even afraid of the idea of their own freedom. That’s why not a single woman out of those I knew in Russia communicates with me! They are afraid of me. Afraid to know why our world was killing me. Because the very same reasons are killing them. And because they do nothing to change that.
I never wanted to be owned by another human being. Never wanted to sacrifice my life for serving him and spend my years alive reassuring myself that he is a superior being and I am helpless and useless without him. I never wanted my body to be an incubator for new human lives whom, I know, I and this world don’t need. I wanted to safeguard my life. To live among people who don’t destroy me but who actually listen to me and care for me. This, I believe, is what every person in the world wants. And it is exactly what we are forbidden from having: our own feelings, our very selves. We are told they are our nemesis and we have to fight them. Erase them.
With Talking to the Moon, I want people to feel the way I did on that bus heading for Moscow. I want them to see that all the fears and doubts they have in their heads were placed there by others. That these fears are nothing. A soap bubble. That people are invincible if only they stop being afraid. And that it is in their power to get a handle on their life and make of it anything they dream of.