They let it happen, they see now. Watched themselves fall in line with expectation and pattern from wallflower to seductress to schoolgirl to trophy wife to cougar to shy girl to nerd girl to victim to victim to victim until the riots happened. It began in Russia with mothers praying and dancing and singing in the streets, women donning masks and kicking fiercely, kicking out like they were kicking themselves for spending time letting someone else write their roles. It followed in country after country as women quit. Quit everything. Quit like the quitters who have had enough, who won’t settle for a clothing spree or an afternoon with the girls arguing over who happens to be Ariel from The Little Mermaid. Somewhere, the world turned its back and girls became women with fire and age in their eyes and fists they knew how to use.
The world wasn’t sure what to do with these women who didn’t follow the cosmo rules or subscribe to suitable distractions that begin with femin- or weep in their rooms or take refuge in anger. The world saw women who would only settle for everything, and the world was scared.
Boo, motherfuckers. Boo.