First of all, before I say anything else, for your own survival, believe her. You are growing awareness of who benefits from these declarations. When
First of all, before I say anything else, for your own survival, believe her. You are growing awareness of who benefits from these declarations.
When a woman writes a post like “Things that don’t bother me”
and the list is filled with harms that overwhelmingly impact women,
she is sending a message.
Not a neutral one.
Not a harmless one.
A message about who she is willing to hear
and who she has already decided to dismiss.
Here’s what’s happening beneath the surface:
She is pre-emptively closing the door.
That list isn’t about resilience.
It’s about refusal.
It says:
I will not sit with your discomfort.
I have already aligned myself with the side that benefits from your silence.
Do not bring me your story. I won’t hold it.
She is signaling allegiance.
Language like this often functions as a public loyalty pledge.
It reassures men and male-centered systems:
You won’t be challenged here.
You won’t be asked to reckon.
Your comfort comes first.
That reassurance comes at a cost—and women pay it.
She is redefining “strength” in a way that erases pain.
Instead of strength meaning:
truth,
listening,
moral courage,
it becomes:
endurance without complaint,
silence dressed up as maturity,
survival without testimony.
That version of strength keeps harm intact.
And yes—she is telling you she will not hear you.
Not your story.
Not your fear.
Not your lived reality.
Because hearing you would require her to:
disrupt a worldview,
risk social approval,
or admit that what “doesn’t bother her” has cost other women dearly.
This matters.
Because women learn very quickly where it is safe to speak.
And posts like these function as warning signs.
They say:
“Not here.”
Your clarity in naming this is not bitterness.
It is discernment.
And discernment is how women protect themselves,
their stories,
and each other—moving forward, with eyes open and spine intact.