remember being an eleven year old girl and being filled with rage? everything i did was from a place in my head where tiny daydream me was smashing plates.
eleven year old me at a sleepover: how about instead of talking about boys we go to the park and like idk play some sort of game where we fight eachother with swords to the death
woof, yeah. i think it has something to do with that being the age you start to faintly glean how absolutely fucked and unfair everything is always going to be for you, and you don’t have the language or reasoning skills to really process it, but you can just grasp the edges of the existential nightmare enough to feel how utterly, infuriatingly helpless you are, and that just makes you want to go full Kali and burn everything down. An ape confronted with the incomprehensible, triggering fight or flight with nothing to fight and nowhere to run, so you just scream and throw shit until you eventually achieve abuse apathy and learn to just lay down and take the beating life has elected to give you. Being a little girl with no agency or rights just old enough to understand that there is no inherent justice or fairness to the universe and that your life will be shaped by man made systems designed by people who have anything but your best interests in mind is one of the most terrifying things I can think of.
I became very fucking angry when I hit puberty and I have been very fucking angry every day since.
I find it amazing how many girls have issues like self-harm and disordered eating and extreme sexual behavior and it ties directly back into that intense rage. Unlike boys and men who lash out, we swallow that anger and let it poison us. Every adult woman I know is still trying to recover from that.


























