This is sooooo good, it's going into my "words that moved me" file:
The Crone, like Maria Griffiths, is done trying to make herself palatable. She no longer asks permission to speak, and she sure as hell doesn’t wait to be invited to the table—she builds a new one, with mismatched legs and duct tape, and writes her truth on it with a Sharpie.
This is sooooo good, it's going into my "words that moved me" file:
The Crone, like Maria Griffiths, is done trying to make herself palatable. She no longer asks permission to speak, and she sure as hell doesn’t wait to be invited to the table—she builds a new one, with mismatched legs and duct tape, and writes her truth on it with a Sharpie.