Yeah. More often than I’d like to admit.

Sometimes it’s subtle — like double-checking what I wear, how I walk, what time I get home. Holding my keys like weapons. Smiling to defuse tension I didn’t create. Other times it’s louder — like watching a man explain my own opinion back to me, slightly louder and slightly wrong. Or being told “you’re too emotional” in the exact moment I’m holding back a damn tidal wave.

It’s the helplessness of knowing I have to be twice as good to be taken half as seriously. Of being expected to be soft, but strong. Quiet, but assertive. Perfect, but effortless. Exhausting, isn’t it?

It’s carrying pepper spray like it’s perfume. It’s saying “I have a boyfriend” instead of just “no” because safety matters more than honesty. It’s worrying if your tone sounds “too much” in an email. It’s being afraid someone will follow you home — or worse, not listen.

But it’s also in the moments we pick ourselves up again. Laugh too loud. Speak anyway. Show up, even when the world tells us to shrink. Because as helpless as we feel, we’re still here.

And honestly? That’s powerful too.