Depression: suppressed aggression!

You know what blows my mind and heart wide open on an almost daily basis?

Women can endure incredible amounts of disappointment and heartache and then go about their day with grace and dignity, softening the sharp edges of their various duties and drudgeries with a kind look or smile here, a tender touch or helping hand there.

Ignoring the fact of endurance of sex, pregnancy, labor, child care and household chores, their bodies being compared to those film actresses who're only and solely dedicated to work on their bodies at whatever it may cost. Leaving their minds in some inferiority complex like if they aren't pretty enough for their better half.

And no one knows. Or at least no one stops to think, that this woman, this woman right here in front of me, her heart is broken. Her dreams have been crushed. She has been confined. Caged. Handed an existence far, far smaller than she is.

Here she is, though, still standing tall. Still helping. Still healing. Still treating the world better than it has treated her.

How do people call us weak? How?

We are steel. Wrapped in silk.

Call me feminist, accept or reject but this is the truth behind any woman, or a victim of depression I say..