More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
That had to be the worst kind of prison—the one whose bars were buried under your skin, invisible cages around your heart and mind.
“Who’s God really, huh, Ruth? Some ghost in the sky, or the men right here on earth who can do anything they want to us?”
What is it about us teenage girls that claws so deeply under people’s skin? We’re reviled and desired in equal measure; cringed at, laughed at, then lunged at. The sheer effort people like my father and my teachers have spent trying to control us. So many dress codes and rigid rules and unspoken ones we have taken on the mantel of policing ourselves, looking in the mirror and wincing at our reflections, drawing our own blood first, before others can.
