I try to envision other women whose paths I am unknowingly retracing. Women of the resistance. Women racing home to slip in after curfew. Women escaping. Foraging. Working. How many were simply enjoying? How will we ever know? It’s so easy to feel as though you are the first at something when no one has declared themselves as such before you. There are, as far as I know, no plaques commemorating women simply being free.
