A good girl. I used to be one.

Didn’t talk back. Didn’t brag. Didn’t fart into my hand and throw it like a grenade.

Never wanted to look needy. Or burdensome. Or like I gargled semen for breakfast.

Said sorry too much. Said no not enough. Said help me never, not ever.

I was a good girl — I knew ‘my place’.

But that place changed. It changed because brick by brick we rebuilt it, didn’t we? We didn’t want to play ladies anymore. We didn’t want to be treated as less than just because we can’t do ‘the helicopter’ with our genitals. We didn’t want to wait for people to make room for us so we simply pushed through.

Yeah, the good girl is long gone so I guess that makes me bad. But how could welcoming yourself into your own heart ever be bad?

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY! Fuck we’re goddesses, don’t ya reckon?

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