The Scariest Truth of Them All

Tick- tock, the sound of the clock. The echoing of the nothing, resounding at every click. Tick… tock… louder and louder , more profound with each “tock”. But it wasnt a clock , it was the seconds of life, slowly wasting away, never to be held again. With each “tick” , a reminder that a she would never amount to anything great. Ordinary, theyd tell her , but extraordinary for the ordinary… so confusing, so , over whelming. For when women all around her were rising above the barriers , becoming doctors, lawyers, and entrepreneurs, she was becoming buried. Buried among the new expectations of what it was meant to be a woman… The pressure. It was building , and the walls around her grew higher and higher. Simplicity wasn’t all that simple anymore. See, simplicity now amounts to all organic, pure, soft but strong, a bread winner, a mom, an advocate, a home maker, not to mention lets always have it all together. You’ll be fine, they said, You’ll make it big , they said. But she didn’t want big. She wanted small, and simple. But simple wasn’t so simple , anymore. Constantly pushed and pulled, to defend feminism,  or told she didn’t care about women. But she cared, she cared so much , just not with the pressure how she was supposed to. The walls got taller, and she became more tired. Go to college they said, run a business, drive this, eat that, wear this, and support all of them. NO, they would shout, you cant do that. You have kids to birth and paths to walk. But , she said, every path will be wrong.

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