My mother never told me that I needed the help of a man, and my father never told me that I was weak. However, the world has continually spoken the opposite. For women, “alone” is often depicted as a dangerous thing to be. While my parents never once preached dependency, they were fearful to let me stop at a gas station after dark by myself, go hiking on my own, or go out without using the “buddy system.” I never challenged these rules, until recently. Unfortunately, the truth is that I do not feel safe walking alone. It is not because I lack independence, but because our world lacks safety. We constantly hear about the increasing prevalence of sexual violence, kidnapping, sex trafficking, and harassment. We hope to god we won't become another statistic, but the truth is our solitude increases our vulnerability. I firmly believe that women hold an unparalleled strength that stems from this adversity we are born into. In every difficult situation we face two options: conquer it, or let it define us. I recently finished reading Cheryl Strayed’s “Wild.” which described her experience on The Pacific Crest Trail where she decided to separate herself from the stereotypical feminine narrative and hike the trail alone. She states: “Fear, to a great extent, is born of a story we tell ourselves, and so I chose to tell myself a different story from the one that women are told.” I wish I could urge myself and every other woman to do the same and choose a different story, but that is a scary thing to ask for. Instead, I hope for a world where this story is no longer fostered, but replaced with security. A world where the dangers stop running wild so that women can again.