#femininestrength
Don’t go making the _joke_ — you know, the one
that always hits a girl’s bad note. I used to laugh too…
until I got the _notes on the subject_, and learned,
this isn’t a punchline, but instead hits a girl like
a gut punch. The red dragon that cramps up in
its cave, where swinging at her mood swings
doesn’t make you brave.
She’s in the tide of her red-letter week — a storm
swelling beneath soft skin. Appetite shifts, touches
itch instead of soothe, and even thoughts lose their
rhythm, like radio static in a room full of noise.
And sometimes it's hard to think straight when
your own body is pulling sideways.
And those bloated comments... they don’t ease anything.
It’s a different pain for every woman, but one shared
thread: that you don’t get to add to it. As we may not
understand the full weight — but we can choose not
to pile more on.
And if you’re thinking of making a joke about it…
don’t. __Period!__
Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 4:07 AM UTC
__Her Plan A was simple__ —
Don’t have kids too young, so she invested
everything into Plan B: watching her step,
protecting her peace, staying ahead of
what the world might expect of her.
_That was always her plan, see._
...__not willing to risk it all for Plan D__.
She’s still out here hoping this one
might be the one to drop down on one knee —
and not just another one wanting her on
her knees. So tired of bruised knees;
from praying to God for someone real,
while a man’s bruised ego is the only thing
she’s expected to heal.
_...she just wants to be free._
Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 5:19 PM UTC
She was free in her wildness.
She was a wanderess,
a drop of free water.
She belonged to no man,
and to no city.
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 8:14 PM UTC