I'm not angry at other women.Not even the ones who shame, silence, or mock.Not even the ones who call truth-telling "too much," "too angry," or "too d
I’m not angry at other women.
Not even the ones who shame, silence, or mock.
Not even the ones who call truth-telling “too much,” “too angry,” or “too divisive.”
I understand the fear.
I understand the conditioning.
I understand the cost of standing alone against a tide.
But understanding is not the same as agreement.
Because I believe this with everything in me:
Speaking only part of the truth will never end violence.
Not against women.
Not against children.
Not against the brave men who step forward to intervene.
Partial truth does not heal.
Partial truth does not free.
Partial truth leaves wounds open and predators protected.
Violence survives on silence.
Violence thrives on half-truths.
Violence multiplies where full truth is too “impolite” to name.
If our words tiptoe around male violence,
if our writings soften brutality until it sounds like a misunderstanding,
if our sisterhood demands silence in the name of unity—
then we are not building safety.
We are building graves.
So, If the truth is uncomfortable, good.
It was never meant to be a lullaby.
It was meant to be a liberation.