love, boys, and the women before me

I was done with boys who sucked my blood.
Who wanted a therapist, or a mom, or a manager — not a girlfriend.
They wanted someone to help them grow, to fix them, to baby them into adulthood.
I don’t want to be that.

I think boys know they’re not fully grown up,
and that’s why they date — hoping a girl will finish the job.
And somehow, we get attached to that.

Girls mostly date because they want someone to love.
We have so much love to give.
After college, after jobs, after the daily routine, we just want to love something. Someone.

Maybe because that’s what we saw.
Our mothers, our aunts, our grandmothers — they poured everything into family.
They were talented too.
They painted, cooked, danced, sang — but someone told them it was “just a hobby.”
They got married at a “right age” and had kids.
Because biology.
Because society.

That was their life.
That’s how life has always been for most women.
But I want something else.

I want to see what happens when I put my expression first.
When I don’t quiet it down.
When I don’t marry someone just to be safe or seen.
When I don’t sacrifice my art to be lovable.