It struck me that in every family, culture, or religion, ideas of right and wrong are the hot cattle prods, the barking sheepdogs that keep the masse… - Glennon Doyle

Iam a sensitive, introverted woman, which means that I love humanity but actual human beings are tricky for me. I love people but not in person. For example, I would die for you but not, like…meet you for coffee. I became a writer so I could stay at home alone in my pajamas, reading and writing about the importance of human connection and community. It is an almost perfect existence. Except that every so often, while I'm thinking my thoughts, writing my words, living in my favorite spot — which is deep inside my own head — something stunning happens: A sirenlike noise tears through my home. I freeze. It takes me a solid minute to understand: The siren is the doorbell. A person is ringing my doorbell. I run out of my office to find my children also stunned, frozen, and waiting for direction about how to respond to this imminent home invasion. We stare at each other, count bodies, and collectively cycle through the five stages of doorbell grief: Denial: This cannot be happening. ALL OF THE PEOPLE ALLOWED TO BE IN THIS HOUSE ARE ALREADY IN THIS HOUSE. Maybe it was the TV. IS THE TV ON? Anger: WHO DOES THIS? WHAT KIND OF BOUNDARYLESS AGGRESSOR RINGS SOMEONE'S DOORBELL IN BROAD DAYLIGHT? Bargaining: Don't move, don't breathe — maybe they'll go away. Depression: Why? Why us? Why anyone? Why is life so hard? Acceptance: Damnit to hell. You — the little one — we volunteer you. Put on some pants, act normal, and answer the door. It's dramatic, but the door always gets answered. If the kids aren't home, I'll even answer it myself. Is this because I remember that adulting requires door answering? Of course not. I answer the door because of the sliver of hope in my heart that if I open the door, there might be a package waiting for me. A package!

Why do women find it honorable to dismiss ourselves? Why do we decide that denying our longing is the responsible thing to do? Why do we believe that what will thrill and fulfill us will hurt our people?

I've done my research and learned this : Ten is when we learn how to be good girls and real boys.Ten is when children begin to hide who they are in order to become what the world expects them to be.Right around ten is when we begin to internalize our formal taming.Ten is when the world sat me down, told me to be quiet, and pointed toward my cages: These are the feelings you are allowed to express.This is how a woman should act.This is the body you must strive for.These are the things you will believe.These are the people you can love.Those are the people you should fear.This is the kind of life you are supposed to want.Make yourself fit.You'll be uncomfortable at first, but don't worry-eventually you'll forget you're caged.Soon this will just feel like: life.