Feminism isn't about making women stronger, they are already stronger, it's about changing the way the world perceives their strenght.
THE HAND THAT ROCKED OUR WORLDS! The smile when i first time cried and my mother laughed. How weak we were, our fragile hands, fragile hearts, weak sights, fairly opened eyes, the taste of her blood going through our veins. "No, don't eat it" she said, when i put something wrong in my mouth. "No, don't do this" she said, when i did something inappropriate. She make me learn how to walk and clapped on my first owned steps, she make me a well dignified member of the society, she is a women who makes my cradle rock until i was capable enough to walk through. Tribute to the uneducated women who taught their children with all the knowledge of the world. Yet! no love is possible or no love exist rather than the hands in which we cried for the first time, not only that day but each day when i woke up and hear her voice calling my name to help her make breakfast, and annoyingly disagree by the idea of directly leaving my bed and s