It's hard to be a girl in this world. I can't even pretend to know how hard it is to be a black girl in this current upside-down world. But what I do know as a 58-year old girl is that you are doing the thing that will carry you through. Getting your swirling emotions and thoughts out of your head and onto the page are your medicine, whether anyone besides the universe sees them or not. The more you spill, the more you will see yourself. Keep going, girl.
Thank you! You’re so sweet 🩷 I appreciate this so much. These times are so tough I’m really just celebrating anything anyone can do to alleviate the stress!
My mother always told me that as a woman, we are inherently misunderstood. That we must keep things for ourselves never fully giving all to those who aren’t worthy. This page where you can fully express yourself candidly is your space, and I am glad it is aiding you through this fallen world. Beautiful piece of work sis. ☺️
Being misunderstood is one of the most dreadful experiences you can have, but I think there is solace in the fact that at least you understand yourself. At least you aren't alien to your persona. The rest can wait because knowing who you are is more important. I know it's awful to never be able to utter the correct words, but remember we don't have to excel in every field. I can unravel my thoughts on writings, and I think that's enough even when my tongue becomes a knot when facing deaf ears. Which reminds me, you cannot explain to those who are blind to a way different than theirs.
i love when we refuse to concede to the notion that we’re crazy for feeling deeply and understanding and knowing all that is unsaid. it’s so exhausting to be misunderstood and be this way in a world that does not yet accept people like us. this has been on my mind a lot too. thank you.
“What weakens me most is being told I don’t feel anything real. That my pain, though it rips open my stomach lining, is frivolous.” The over intellectualization of Being reeks of patriarchy. The Spell of the Sensuous is a must read for women
I am sorry for your pain. Whatever you are feeling, it is valid.
If it is physical, i hope the cause is found and treated gently and effectively. If it is your soul screaming, you are joining the chorus of millions, quite possibly a billion of us on the planet at the moment. Where you need comfort, i hope you get it, deep and nuturing.
I could not write that at 19. My times were different.
These were the times i was trained to fear, since i was four. At 59, i am not as afraid as i was at 19.
But yes. I am reading. I am listening.
Not just to the style, but the content. Your pain is valid. You are amazing.
There is a reason so many songs and poems are written about being nineteen - it’s such a vibrant age. Everything hurts all the time, but there is an underlying feeling of unused potential that can be exciting and electric when the right circumstance occurs.
As someone who is turning 25, the rawness of feeling misunderstood never truly goes away, it just becomes less flavourful. It lingers but it doesn’t fog. Know that you’re not hysterical for feeling intensely, it’s the most beautiful quality to have and it allows you to make beautiful art that resonates with so many people, I loved reading this x
I am in awe of you, Paris. What you expressed so eloquently is what I have been trying to process and understand for 56 years. I think so many other women also feel the same as you, and you are not alone. Please trust yourself, listen to yourself, believe in yourself. And please keep writing, because women need strong, intelligent, feeling women to help them to connect to each other, and your writing does that. The world needs you, my love, and you have been seen, appreciated and heard here.
Sending you a gentle comforting hug with my love, and some fierce dragon energy from Wales 🏴
I feel like you’ve voiced exactly how I’ve felt my whole life, especially as a weird black girl. Thank you for these words, the world needs them, and you<3
Your words resonate deeply. I felt the weight of them, the raw honesty, and the struggle they carry. I know what it’s like to feel so certain of yourself and yet be doubted by the world. It’s a strange and painful thing, to be told that what you feel isn’t real or important, even when it consumes you from the inside out.
Being a young woman who feels everything so intensely can be exhausting. People tell you it’s just drama, that your pain is exaggerated. But it’s not. You’re not. You’re someone who knows and feels too much in a world that wants you to be quieter, simpler, more agreeable. That’s not fair, and it’s not true to who you are.
You talk about holding your emotions so tightly that they turn your hands pale—an image so vivid I could almost see it. I know that feeling, of gripping your truth until it hurts, hoping that someone, anyone, will understand. It’s hard when you write your heart out and still feel unseen. I get that. We all have that voice inside that doubts, that waits for someone’s approval to feel valid.
But here’s the thing: Your voice matters, even if it shakes or feels too loud at times. Your anger, your tiredness, your need to be understood—they’re all real and worth listening to. And while some may never get it, some will. I do.
So, keep writing. Keep being who you are. The world might not always understand, but there are those of us who hear you, who know that feeling of being too much and not enough at the same time. Your words remind us that we aren’t alone, and I hope you know you aren’t either.
It's hard to be a girl in this world. I can't even pretend to know how hard it is to be a black girl in this current upside-down world. But what I do know as a 58-year old girl is that you are doing the thing that will carry you through. Getting your swirling emotions and thoughts out of your head and onto the page are your medicine, whether anyone besides the universe sees them or not. The more you spill, the more you will see yourself. Keep going, girl.
Thank you! You’re so sweet 🩷 I appreciate this so much. These times are so tough I’m really just celebrating anything anyone can do to alleviate the stress!
This is very relatable. Thank you for sharing your rawness. Beautifully written. 💜
Thank you!
My mother always told me that as a woman, we are inherently misunderstood. That we must keep things for ourselves never fully giving all to those who aren’t worthy. This page where you can fully express yourself candidly is your space, and I am glad it is aiding you through this fallen world. Beautiful piece of work sis. ☺️
Being misunderstood is one of the most dreadful experiences you can have, but I think there is solace in the fact that at least you understand yourself. At least you aren't alien to your persona. The rest can wait because knowing who you are is more important. I know it's awful to never be able to utter the correct words, but remember we don't have to excel in every field. I can unravel my thoughts on writings, and I think that's enough even when my tongue becomes a knot when facing deaf ears. Which reminds me, you cannot explain to those who are blind to a way different than theirs.
I needed this🤍🤍
Oh yes!! This is wise! Knowing who we are is no small gift.
i love when we refuse to concede to the notion that we’re crazy for feeling deeply and understanding and knowing all that is unsaid. it’s so exhausting to be misunderstood and be this way in a world that does not yet accept people like us. this has been on my mind a lot too. thank you.
“You are so tortured. In your suburbs and navy denim. I’m so sorry”
I’m going to sit with this line for some time. It’s all encompassing.
Thank you for this post 🤍
“What weakens me most is being told I don’t feel anything real. That my pain, though it rips open my stomach lining, is frivolous.” The over intellectualization of Being reeks of patriarchy. The Spell of the Sensuous is a must read for women
Thank you, Paris.
I am sorry for your pain. Whatever you are feeling, it is valid.
If it is physical, i hope the cause is found and treated gently and effectively. If it is your soul screaming, you are joining the chorus of millions, quite possibly a billion of us on the planet at the moment. Where you need comfort, i hope you get it, deep and nuturing.
I could not write that at 19. My times were different.
These were the times i was trained to fear, since i was four. At 59, i am not as afraid as i was at 19.
But yes. I am reading. I am listening.
Not just to the style, but the content. Your pain is valid. You are amazing.
Keep writing. It is important.
There is a reason so many songs and poems are written about being nineteen - it’s such a vibrant age. Everything hurts all the time, but there is an underlying feeling of unused potential that can be exciting and electric when the right circumstance occurs.
As someone who is turning 25, the rawness of feeling misunderstood never truly goes away, it just becomes less flavourful. It lingers but it doesn’t fog. Know that you’re not hysterical for feeling intensely, it’s the most beautiful quality to have and it allows you to make beautiful art that resonates with so many people, I loved reading this x
I am in awe of you, Paris. What you expressed so eloquently is what I have been trying to process and understand for 56 years. I think so many other women also feel the same as you, and you are not alone. Please trust yourself, listen to yourself, believe in yourself. And please keep writing, because women need strong, intelligent, feeling women to help them to connect to each other, and your writing does that. The world needs you, my love, and you have been seen, appreciated and heard here.
Sending you a gentle comforting hug with my love, and some fierce dragon energy from Wales 🏴
LOVED this. FELT this. Thank you for your writing. ♥️
I very much felt the same way when I was 19 and sometimes still. --A 30 year old girl
I feel like you’ve voiced exactly how I’ve felt my whole life, especially as a weird black girl. Thank you for these words, the world needs them, and you<3
Your words resonate deeply. I felt the weight of them, the raw honesty, and the struggle they carry. I know what it’s like to feel so certain of yourself and yet be doubted by the world. It’s a strange and painful thing, to be told that what you feel isn’t real or important, even when it consumes you from the inside out.
Being a young woman who feels everything so intensely can be exhausting. People tell you it’s just drama, that your pain is exaggerated. But it’s not. You’re not. You’re someone who knows and feels too much in a world that wants you to be quieter, simpler, more agreeable. That’s not fair, and it’s not true to who you are.
You talk about holding your emotions so tightly that they turn your hands pale—an image so vivid I could almost see it. I know that feeling, of gripping your truth until it hurts, hoping that someone, anyone, will understand. It’s hard when you write your heart out and still feel unseen. I get that. We all have that voice inside that doubts, that waits for someone’s approval to feel valid.
But here’s the thing: Your voice matters, even if it shakes or feels too loud at times. Your anger, your tiredness, your need to be understood—they’re all real and worth listening to. And while some may never get it, some will. I do.
So, keep writing. Keep being who you are. The world might not always understand, but there are those of us who hear you, who know that feeling of being too much and not enough at the same time. Your words remind us that we aren’t alone, and I hope you know you aren’t either.
Extremely relatable and really well written. I felt this with my whole heart and felt so seen in your words.