Women. Women are supposed to look like delicate flowers on the outside yet be strong enough to endure the bullets that ricochet on their inside. They must protect their bodies like their home but allow for society to punch, beat, and break in the ideals that women’s bodies belong to men, they must belong within the confines of 50 pages in the spread of magazine, belong to social media, belong to the government, belong to whomever has an opinion about it…yet it’s our fault for not protecting our body if one of these tenants decides to break down our doors without our permission. Then we’re shamed. But what’s shameful is that we are taught to fit within the walls of a room that was painted solely in pink for us, filled with items taxed 42% more than men, and shoved in the corner only to be opened when needed. We are taught to not speak up when the world tries to break down our bodies, break down our minds, break down our beings.
We are not taught to protect other women, but we learn through experiences in our life that in order to protect ourselves, we need to support each other. Women. Women are supposed to look like delicate flowers but what they don’t know is there’s nothing more powerful than the support of millions of delicate flowers, strengthened by warm words of positivity, shielded from clouds with large petals held by strong stems of sisterhood, watered by a lifeline of hugs from mothers, grandmothers, daughters, and best friends. Sometimes delicate flowers fall and lose their way sometimes, including me, but I have hope we always find our way back to the field later on in life welcomed with open arms when the time comes for us to find our way back home.