Women. We are intriguing creatures to say the least. We all have so much to offer this crazy, beautiful world. So why is there so much hate between us? I’ve noticed it my entire life. Girls bullying other girls. Girls being cruel to other girls. Girls being downright vicious to other girls. It’s constant in our world, and now easier than ever to do thanks to technology. And it doesn’t just happen in high school, oh no. It continues in college and far beyond. Woman on woman hate clearly does not discriminate against age: there are plenty of women 40+ who STILL just can’t get with it. But to me, these “women” are not women. They behave like little girls. As one of my favorite quotes puts it, “Empowered women, empower women.”
Well guys, I’m here. After many heartbreaks, tears, lots of laughter, some I-can’t-believe-that-just-happened moments, and countless Why me?’s, I finally made it to Worth Avenue. Knowing your worth. It’s a phrase we hear often, especially across social media. But when you think about it, what does it really mean to know your worth? Synonymous to love, I believe that truly knowing your worth is displayed by your actions.
Social Media. It’s incredible to see how this whole other world has taken over to become our new reality. No longer does it matter how kind you are or the good deeds you do. I mean, if you didn’t Instagram it, did you really even do it? It’s become all about followers, not friends. Likes, not love. Sharing, not caring (okay that was cheesy, but still).
Grades have always been important to me. I started taking college classes at the age of 15, and (finally) had my first summer off from classes just this past year. 144 credit hours later, I have a bachelor’s degree, and am two semesters shy of my second one. In my time at college, I have earned 35 A’s, 8 B’s, and 1 C. And I can tell you without a shred of doubt, that that one C taught me more than my 35 A’s and 8 B’s. Without further ado, here’s the tale of a princess sitting in her kingdom without a care in the world, only to become a damsel in distress. (Don’t worry, the story has a happy ending. And it’s also not that dramatic.)
I have been wanting to write this post for a long time now, but I never really felt that push to write it…until now. Recently, I came across a girl’s blog. I noticed straight away how similar we were: both southern, both blondes, both attending SEC universities, and both come from good families. Then I read it. The most striking similarity of all. My stomach dropped and my throat locked up. Because we are both survivors of an abusive relationship.
In all honesty, I’ve never really given safe rooms much thought. However, after all of the pure hatred I’ve seen from people surrounding this election, I can safely say (no pun intended) that on this Thanksgiving holiday, I’m eternally thankful for the safe rooms in my life.