I am tired of weak women. What happened to us? Eyeliner winged, stilettos tapping the ground rhythmically, heads held high, and yet we’re so broken inside. How did we become a generation of professional women with critically low self esteem? Why is nothing we do ever good enough? We can be mothers, daughters, sisters, friends, and somehow if you’re single, if a man finds you undesirable, that’s the tipping point. That can cost you everything.
I’ve seen smart girls fall into the most obvious traps, losing their minds over heartless boys who never gave a second thought to their sufferings. I’ve seen her chase pills with vodka and cry in the hospital wing after getting her stomach pumped while he sat there guiltily, mumbling useless apologies. You don’t apologise for breaking a heart, it takes exceptional cruelty to expect forgiveness for such a crime.
I’ve seen her draw hearts in…
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