As women, we are taught to be tiny. To have small bodies, to never be imposing. The ideal of our gender are thin and childlike, hairless and dainty. We are defined by our bodies; defined by our control over them. We are taught to obsess over our physicality and to be repulsed by our desires and intelligences.
We are taught to walk scared late at night. We cradle our keys between our perfectly manicured fingers, walking gracefully like a baby antelope in a herd of lions. That our virginity defines our character. That I am a frigid bitch if I do not fuck him, and a dirty slut if I do.
have you ever thought about how many people think about you? it’s so bizarre. imagine someone, out of the blue, thinking of your face. something happens; they remember you. your favorite song, how you dress, the way you talk, the look in your eyes when you are happy. they remember that about you, even if you haven’t seen each other in years. everything in life is a reminder of a person, a place, a moment. you may think you’ve forgotten, but you haven’t.