Source: The snow must go on.
When I was a young girl, I used to think, “I love being a girl.” We are the ones who get to get doors held for them and kisses on the backs of their hands.
It’s sad that now, almost no girls think that.
More than 6 million of our sisters worldwide are being punished and ridiculed for being their gender. In Asia, girls are being killed or shipped away for being born.
Since the dawn of time, women have been used, neglected, and wasted away. They were the children bearers, caretakers, and family teachers. The only thing the woman was to do was to have children, and raise them. They were not to speak up, they were no to have their own thoughts or hopes or dreams. It was simple. Black and white for them.
Well, I want to live in a world of color.
I don’t want to just have kids and raise them. I want to have my own hopes and dreams. I want to be able to take a stand without a fear of being targeted and shot down. These women have that fear. They want more than anything to truly be a woman, and have all of the capabilities that anyone else has.
But they can never have that chance.
I just recently finished the documentary, “He Named Me Malala”, And I have to congratulate the directors and movie producers for such an amazing and moving film. It truly brought tears and it has become close to my heart. It took and indescribable amount of bravery and courage to begin even mentioning her brutal attack and unveiling the horrors of her world. I am so proud to be a woman and a girl, around the age of Malala. It made my heart swell with pride seeing her speak to the audiences.
It is truly an honor to have watched the movie and heard her story. I hope it will inspire others to speak out and speak up for what you believe in. Staying ture in what you believe in is one of the strongest character traits out there.
I hope you all stay strong. My heart is with you.
Something helps me get through the day by thinking of other things. When jock guys whistle and yell at me to “Get over there”, I simply think of other things. Seeing my friends smiling faces, immune and bare to the haunting of the previous course of events.
When you’ve known someone for a while, you automatically notice them day to day and develop a relationship with those persons. It’s Impossible not to. When you pass them in the hallway, your eyes meet, and you get this clinging feeling in your gut that you cannot look away. It’s like slowing down after a car crash. You have to watch, but it becomes personal. You get thinking, what if that were me? And of course you don’t want to be the bitch and be the first to look away, so you two are staring uncomfortably in the hall for the past fifteen minutes and everyone around you cannot shake the awkward feeling that you should be talking to each other. They sense a connection. Just like those car crash victims getting loaded into the ambulance. You can’t help but think, that could’ve been me. Once you notice something rift between someone or something, then that could mean that everything’s changed. For better or worse.