there’s a weight you feel in a woman’s body. there’s pressure, and it only builds as you get older. i struggle with it constantly, especially when i’m feeling off. I get so overwhelmed. Light turns into strobing static, sound doesn’t make sense. i want to escape, i want to experience lightness. i’ve never been great at being a woman. i want to be a man, even just for a moment. not to say men don’t feel pressure as well, but the pressure that time places on women is unique. everywhere i look i am reminded of all the ways i have failed. ads for engagement rings and baby clothes. i feel small inside my body. i am 3 inches tall. constantly being asked why i’m still where i am. why i haven’t achieved the things my peers have. why aren’t you stable? why don’t you have roots? why don’t you have a family? the worrying worries me. i’m a romantic. i’ve realized that what i thought was love for so long was not. it was needing, clinging, clawing for scraps of affection. from people who did not give it freely. maybe i was too willing to give to make up for the shortcomings. i think i’m old enough that i don’t want that anymore. i don’t want to feel anything less than wanted. i want to marry someone who sees through me like glass. i want to feel safe with them, even though i am fragile on occasion. i want to know they will take care of me. i want to get what i give, and give what i get.
