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No such thing as a real woman!

She's a girl. About six or seven. Playing outside with the boys. Other girls mums tell them not to hang out with her, because her mother is not like them, and she's not like them either. She goes home crying. She plays by herself.

In her early twenties. She knows her way. She possesses a confidence that makes you uncomfortable. A sense of self. God forbid!

She's one of those women. The 'strong' ones. The ones who do not even need to go against the label. A grey suit woman wearing a flowy dress and bright red lipstick. Women who do not fit in.

She's the woman, other women in real grey suits dismissed as too girly, too cute, less smart. She's the woman, other women in flowy dresses dismissed as too manly, too independent, too smart.

She's the woman whose glass ceiling in life is other women. She thinks, she should have been born a boy.

She's lonely.

In her mid twenties. She is yet to learn her limits. She is most likely to be single. Her best friends are the guys she works with. Her only girl friends, are their girlfriends. She travels around the world, because she can. Nothing can ever tie her down. Nowhere.

In her late twenties. She has built herself into a man's world. And life has opened up in front of her like a smooth motorway...

She's a woman. Mid thirties. A mother. Her child knows that the only limits a person has, are their own.

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