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Perhaps that was what he really had a problem with. That he could control her body but not her mind.
For this was a word invented by men, a word that brings power to those who speak it, not those it describes. A word that builds gallows and pyres, turns breathing women into corpses.
A great many things look different from a distance.
Truth is like ugliness: you need to be close to see it.
The twenty-first century afforded a degree of protection. But it hadn’t protected her from Simon.
Things will be different for her daughter. She’ll make sure of it. And that means she has to be brave.
The force of it—this love that surges in her veins—shocks her. As does the searing clarity that she will do anything, whatever is necessary, to keep her child safe.
We all have our cross to bear.”
perhaps being different wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Perhaps it was something to be proud of.
The connections between and among women are the most feared, the most problematic, and the most potentially transforming force on the planet. —Adrienne Rich