What a phenomenal final sentence.

Naomi Wolf wrote about a similar dynamic in Promiscuities, about growing up in 1970s San Francisco. Her family was super “hip” and modern and such, but her brother was allowed an amount of freedom that today would probably garner the attention of CPS, while she and her friends, all daughters of “liberal” parents, were…

Someone needs to tell the story about what happens when the beautiful crazy girl becomes the (still) crazy post menopausal woman because that's when shit gets real. 

I’m still a little disturbed by how I definitely desired to be one of these girls growing up. I had such a strong want to be interesting enough to get attention that the idea that what I found “interesting” about these stories was the pain. It surely didn’t help that I had an older who was both talented and struggling…

There’s a reason the roles aren’t reversed. If the movie were called crazy/poor person, the plot would fall apart and the happy ending would most likely feel too far-fetched even for Hollywood.

As a Gen Xer from a super sexist household, these books appealed to me for all the wrong reasons. When my sister and I were “well-behaved” and did what our parents wanted, we didn’t really get any other attention. Our submissiveness was our value.