Fun fact: Call me a bitch when you reply to me, and I’m going to lean on the dismiss button like it’s my job. Even if I might agree with the rest of what you say, calling me a slur is the last way in the world to get me to see your point of view. If you disagree with me, let’s have a discussion; I’m happy to admit…

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the litany

It's been a tough week for women. I've found myself caught up in a lot of arguments since Sunday, and there have been a number of times that I've thought, no. I can't do this anymore. I don't have any more fight left in me. Why would I ever want to have a child? What if I had a girl? There's no way I could protect her…

invisible.

I realized the other day that I haven't gotten catcalled in ages, and was relieved. I'm not sure if it's because I don't wear makeup much anymore, because I'm over 35, because I prefer pantsuits to skirt suits, and I don't care. Right now, I'm grateful to be invisible.

intro

Hi. I was here for a year or so with a burner under my main online handle, and then I lost my burner key. Probably just as well; there's someone out there who follows me online from time to time with that name. So hello anonymity, and back to the greys with me :)