Not even if, but when. As the constant pressure to procreate rears its aggravating head, everywhere I look, society seems to always insist on reminding me of my place.
It’s a woman's expectation, our very purpose for existing. We are just cows to breed; our opinions, feelings, and ambitions are irrelevant.
Being a woman is absolutely exhausting. It has been since the dawn of time, and I fear it always will be, in America at least. I can only hope for the best for women internationally, but society never gives us a break, no matter what we do or where we are from.