Personal journal entry, September 11, 2017: Sometimes we wear womanhood like a yoke — burdensome on our shoulders, as we carry the torch for younger women coming behind. Sometimes, we swing womanhood as a sword, slicing, and jousting for survival in a world that started without us, and in some cases, would be more than happy to continue that way. Sometimes, womanhood surrounds us thick as a fog, wrapping us in ...


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