Women, from the moment they are born, are thrown onto a stage to pursue the life of an actress. There is no choice, no what if, no backup plan. Their only option is to be grateful, and to humbly accept their fate.

Rather than the soft, fluorescent, glow of a hospital, a girl emerging from the womb is instead greeted with the blinding flare of a spotlight. She is placed under the watchful eyes of the world, every action to be critiqued, but not aided. She must figure it out on her own.

When forced to rely on the wealth of others, a woman is greedy, pathetic. Yet when she makes a life for herself, asserts her independence, she is too hungry, too selfish to consider the needs of her peers. A woman must never be lonely, yet when surrounded by friends she suddenly becomes too loud. A woman must yearn for the validation of a man, but never say so. She must be polite, but never shy away from a bold conversation. She must dress to impress, but never to impress herself: that would be pathetic.

In a moment of solitude, of relaxation, the voice inside a woman’s head always remains. It nags, taunts, screams: You’re lazy. You’re worthless. You are wasting your voice. Women are born desperate to prove. Not to prove their power, or their intelligence, but simply to prove their existence.

A woman is taught that she must use her voice to move mountains; Otherwise, her word means nothing. A woman is born aware of the shoes she must fill long before she can even stand. She is born with her future in full view, her path carefully laid out for her. 

Yet, a woman who rejects this path in liu of creating her own, in any little way, holds an indescribable sense of power. Wholly and shamelessly embracing womanhood for what it is, taking pleasure in the small joys regardless of expectations, holds enough strength to challenge the spotlight’s illumination entirely.