Sometimes I lay in bed and think about the childhood I am slowly leaving behind.
I miss the blissful ignorance of youth.
Still being small enough to sit on my father’s shoulders as we look through the garden.
The smell of cookies baking while I lick the sweet dough off of the mixer.
Now I’ve been slapped in the face with a harsh reality.
The reality of being a woman.
I’ve been told what I’m supposed to be afraid of, and the precautions I must take.
Don’t walk alone at night.
Watch what you wear when you go out.
Cover your drink.
But the true harsh reality is it doesn’t matter what you do or what you wear.
You just have to endure, and still find a way to shine.