From the book “The Help” ; my favorite dialogue.

The bane of my existence. Talking doesn’t necessarily solve a lot of things, but to know that there are people around who are going through something similar takes a part of the shame away.

It’s so important in our world what men think, what they feel and who they desire, we spend our lives creating our personalities around it. With all of our equal rights shenanigans, feminist and woke philosophy, the right to choose ultimately rests with men.

So much suffering can come from us feeling like we are too important to suffer.

There‘s plenty of content online , and books to read, about dealing with failures in life, heartbreaks and rejections. There’s just one thing I didn’t come across; that there is honor in failing, there is honor in being rejected, and there is honor in getting your heart broken. We don’t have to walk through it all with shame.

Growing up, I haven’t seen women who exist for themselves , around me , in movies, in pop culture, anywhere. It’s a tragedy because our generation must learn that.

A lot is said about the grief that comes with losing people. Nobody talks about the grief of lost time.

Why poetry and prose is so important..

Besides being shit scared, obviously..

Why is it so easy for a guy we like to come up to us and tell us that we aren’t attractive, or are fat, or flat, and completely destroy us.. or for a friend who we are very invested in tell us we aren’t fun, and give us very deep scars? I feel like, somehow, as we grow up, we lose touch with the part of ourselves that’s not sellable , but extremely priceless. We forget who we are without the parts of ourselves that are profitable to others.