Why must we be cast as a Madonna, a whore, a selfless mother, a sexual object of desire, an endearing manic pixie dream girl with absolutely no character arc except quirkily supporting the male protagonist, or a sheltered childhood sweetheart whose virginity it seems the duty of the male lead ...
No one can convince me that a woman doesn’t become even more beautiful, talented, successful, strong, happy, fulfilled and centered the older she gets. People will try to tell you differently, but I strongly believe that statistics are only important if you’re interested in becoming one of them.
So, instead of continuing to piss and bemoan everyone else’s lack of vision, I decided to branch my ass out of the box I had for some reason agreed to self-perpetuate.