Hello.

I am a teenage girl, soon-to-be-fullgrown-woman.

My body is on the verge of womanhood and I curl up in agony as cramps shoot through it.

My breast are aching, no more of the worries of scraped knees.

No instructions, no education needed.

Only pain from past mistakes and joy from happy memories.

But is it really that simple?

Please, let me start over.

Hello.

I am a whore, or at least that's what they whisper in the corridors.

Sexy and babe with no reaction turns to "She's a slut".

Boys, men, guys, punks, they see my body as their personal temple for pleasure.

I fear the power of my body, and I blame it.

The blame burns my skin, breaks my bones, sinks my heart.

I try to stop it but it just won't, because they know.

They've seen, and their stares are burning holes in my clothes, leaving me naked and ashamed.

Their eyes are feeling me up, no, not me, my body.

Are they even the same thing anymore?

This just doesn't feel right.

Hello.

I am a feminist, crying out loud for women's rights.

Some people see me as a danger to their beliefs, but they're wrong.

I will teach those who cannot fight; I will strengthen those who have no voice.

We won't be stopped, and we will spread like a raging fire.

But we're not here to destroy. We're here to help.

Why can't you stop putting out our flame?

I'm almost there.

Hello.

I am a woman, and let me tell you something.

I won't explain my actions or pains to someone who will never understand them.

Because it is none of your goddamn business.