Every time a man takes from a woman’s body without her permission, he is disrespecting the womb from which he was born, he is defiling the place that protected him when he was at his most defenseless.
The bird building her home on your windowsill has every nest destroyed before. The spider that is delicately weaving a masterpiece has had every single thread broken before. And despite it all, they try again.
And often when she finds herself missing him, missing the good moments with him, she whispers to herself, ‘The absence of you has taught me how to love myself. So thank you, my darling, my dearest.
There are three versions of you. The one that smiles and laughs with others, the one that hides and cries alone, and the one that has the ability to achieve greatness.
