When the girl who's never angry becomes angry, she feels the fire in her bones. She feels alive because she is finally letting herself feel. Without the constant worry of impossibly pleasing; not having to tread lightly on hot coals as to not stir up the flames even as they burn her bare feet. She's realizing that the feelings she has been carrying in her arms need to be claimed by her--their validity needing to be seen by her clouded eyes. She's been taught to sit still, to remain quiet even if the objectifying stares, the comments on the street that are supposed to be "compliments" make her stomach knot and her skin crawl like an army of invisible ants are marching up and down.

She believes she's bad at math, because no one ever told her that she could be great at it. She works twice as hard as her classmates and they still doubt her correct answer as she eloquently explains it. Her future looks bright now, but reality will work to dim this into a small ember. The reality of running a laboratory, being called professor, being a CEO is a dream she can taste, but she will wonder years from now if it will ever be possible. She dreams of having it all, having a family, a career, but sometimes she wonders if it's a dream she never should have had in the first place? That's how society wants her to feel.

She is called bossy when she takes control or shares the ideas that grow like majestic trees within her mind. Called bitchy when she stands up for what she believes in or says no because she knows what she wants, and he's not it. Taught from a young age that she must cover up, she remembers the shame the first time she was told that her skirt was too short by a stern school administrator who treated her body like it was an object to be punished for distracting the male students. As she grows she keeps wondering why her body is the conversation of so many policies that govern her life but that she has no say in. She sleeps but 600 miles away in the capital, Congress discusses her body, her rights to health care and she will wake up to remember that even in a country that is the home of the free, some of us are more able to fly, while others remain chained to a mirage that masquerades as freedom.

She is finally awake and ready to fight. Dousing herself in gasoline she is ready to ignite the fire and illuminate the broken shards of the glass of oppression that we continue to sweep under the rug. She is ready to shout, she's ready to stand with those who challenge her to look at the world through the eyes of another. She refuses to give up hope and will not stop until there's change.