expectingrain:

“Well,” I said, and I didn’t normally think like that but if a man is going to ask me if I think I am better than him then I already am. And so, “Yes,” I managed and looked away. I dared myself not to take it back. […] It seems to me that men rank you and pit themselves against you and wonder who is better and declare you the smartest or most beautiful and meanwhile we worry for them and wish revelations upon them and hope they will love us because could they, really, if they knew the truth? That we are smart without them and beautiful without them telling us so, and that deep down, in most cases, we know we are better?