And I look like a million bucks. No, really.
Don’t give me that look. The one I know you’re giving me. It’s true what they say: a woman has to do whatever she can to get ahead in this world. And instead of just talking tough, try *being* tough.
The fact of it is, I’m reclaiming my face, and I’m not going to let anyone tell me otherwise.
This is feminism as it should be.
In rejecting the image of what I do look like, I’m able to embrace the image of what I should look like – as dictated by me. This is a conscious choice, and I’ve never felt more empowered. Don’t believe me? Well, try this one on for size: I’ve got another $5 grand tucked away for just such a rainy day, and I know exactly where it’s going. Yeah, that’s right.
And what’s all this ballyhoo about ‘natural’? *Natural* this and *natural* that. You know what else is natural? Influenza. Volcanoes. Pimples, child cancer, tribalism. I’m not a natural woman, you’re not a natural whatever-you-are — where’d you get those skinny jeans? You got them from thousands of years of culture, pal, and they’re about as real as the new curve on my lips.
You know what I say? SO. WHAT. Embrace the future. Choose pomo, not fomo. I’m more confident than ever, I’m sexier than ever, and if I can’t express as many emotions on my new face as the old one, that’s fine, because to all of you out there I’d just as soon as turn a haughty, unblinking exterior to your bullshit as look at you.
The fact is that you pissbabies can’t handle a powerful, assertive, successful woman taking control of her body and her life, while ceding some control in her face, and that scares you.
Well, I’m here to tell you: be scared.
I’m coming for you.
#watchthefuckout #feminism #hillary