We often ignore the indifference of men and dive headfirst into their lives, filling all the empty space with a curiosity, an empathy, that isn’t shared.
Women rethink the narrative they’re born into, laughing at Mean Girls rather than recreating their own version. They aim to bake a great, gooey pie, rather than merely perfecting one rigid, self-absorbed slice.
Growing up ‘girl’ is not all tea parties and lavender scented day-of-the-week panties. It isn’t easy, or subtle, or clean—it isn’t in the realm of femininity in which we’ve been taught to remain. Though a new photography exhibit claims to be ‘disrupting’ these preconceived notions, I argue that it’s just caving to a similar strain.