I had a revelation last night about how I’ve gone through life never feeling good enough because I have based my worth on whether or not I’d be seen as attractive to a man. Last night I was like, fuck this. I want to be a wise old crone with waves of grey hair and mala beads wrapped around the skin of my crepe paper arms. I want to welcome people to come sit and talk and be comforted. To perhaps spill some wise words. I never again want to give a fuck if someone finds me attractive. What a shallow way to think about men as well.