I’m sorry that I feel the need to write this.
But the sadness and helplessness inside me are wearing me down day by day.
I can’t bear it anymore.
And so, I write again… and again.

A while ago, I mentioned that I had to change cities for a short holiday. Because of that, I’m currently staying at a relative’s house.
Since the day I arrived, witnessing the family dynamics of the people around me—some of whom I barely know—has left a strange feeling in me.
It’s both familiar and distant.
And above all, deeply painful.

Once again, I find myself talking about the patriarchal system I’ve complained about countless times.
But it’s not just words anymore—I’ve seen with my own eyes the helplessness of women who grew up in this system and were never given a chance to grow into themselves.
Their dreams, thoughts, identities, beliefs, careers…
None of it is truly theirs.
They have no say.
They have no voice.
And no clear way out.

There is a way out.
But saying it isn’t even legal.
So I stay silent.
But inside, I scream in tears.

The house is mostly empty as I write this.
So I’m a little more comfortable than usual.
I listen to music, sleep, watch movies…
But how long will these things keep me going?

I don’t know.
I really don’t know anything.
I just exist.
Dependent on people I don’t love.
Trapped in the chains of obligation.

One day, this path will either turn into a massive rage,
or I’ll lose to the pitiful coward hiding inside me.
But until then—
I will fight.
With every drop of blood in my veins.

Because I’m walking toward womanhood.
I’m walking toward my dreams.
I’m walking toward the life I deserve.

Not reaching it isn’t the real problem.
It’s being forced to keep living without ever reaching it.
Otherwise, what is life, really?
Is a life under captivity… truly life at all?