Been thinking today about how we have slowly, gradually, very slipped into a state of existence where we get to have severe, exacting expectations of women. We get to, on daily basis, demand of women their loyalty and worthiness to belong, by ay of meeting A Particular standard (that is slowly feeling stiflingly monolithic and featureless).

I’m getting so sick of how day in and out, in the public domain and in private, women’s character is questioned, and the proof of our “goodness” is demanded in many, many ways. Again and again, in innumerable ways we are shown and made to feel like our independent choices are not good enough. That our choices make us crazy, hysterical, excessive, difficult, emotional. That to be all of these things is somehow negative. Not good enough. Out of character.

It disturbs me that I see and her of examples of this on a daily basis.

I’m tired of the boxes we still have to fit and labels we have to carry. And I dream of a day when I can put this burden down. Fully.

When I can be me, wholeheartedly. Without my character being questioned, my appearance being reason to slot me in a box. Without my choices being scrutinised.

Sigh, a girl can dream.

One year ago: On alone time
Four years ago: Too many words, so here’s a cop out