They Thought We’d Vanish Quietly. We Became Everything They Were Afraid Of.

They thought we’d disappear. We did one better: we stopped returning.

Photo by Pedro Honn on Unsplash

Before We Begin, You Should Know

Most people won’t notice when a woman disappears.

Not at first.

She’ll still answer emails.

She’ll still smile when she’s tired.

She’ll still show up, physically.

But the version of her that explained, softened, waited, translated, apologized, adjusted, that version is gone.

And by the time anyone realizes she’s not performing anymore,

she’ll already be building something in a language they were never meant to speak.

This isn’t a warning.

This isn’t a threat.

This is what happens when we leave and don’t look back.

Keep reading.

Or don’t.

Either way,

we’re already gone.