I’m so angry that we can’t do normal things without the fear of ending up dead. Whether it’s a jog, going on date, collecting a parcel. We exist as prey.
How many times must we ask how many more ?
Bathroom interactions at concerts, fixing each other’s hair in public, asking each other for pads and treating it as women duty, complimenting each other randomly, our collective dislike for men (even when you have a lovely husband), and our beautiful hearts.
I love women. 🌸