I could feel my heart pounding, the constriction in my throat and the warmth of the blood in my face as my turn approached. The directions had been simple enough: Select an image (or several) to represent: 1) the reason you are here; 2) what you are most concerned about or afraid of in reference to being here; and 3) what you are most hopeful of getting out of this. There were nine other men in the room, and I had struggled to focus on their description of the relevance of the photos they had selected due to my anxiety over sharing my own. I had purposefully waited to go last because I knew my thoughts would likely be jarring for the others, and I had no idea how I would be received after sharing them.

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