There was a light breeze, a light rage, a knotting of the stomach muscles. A momentary hesitation, unsurity arose and then passed like a shadow. I wasn't sure what I'd done wrong. In fact, I was sure I had done nothing wrong. The words feminist, independent, bold passed from his lips. Any other time they would be flattering, but something told me they weren't. The tone insinuated disapproval. It was a tone I had heard before. I had heard it from parents,  boyfriends, aquaintances.. I hated it. I never understood it or maybe it was the other way around. They didn't really know what I was talking about. I mean, really? I had to be docile, meek, feign ignorance? But to what means? I don't need to do that just because I was born with breasts. I would never do that, for anyone. To anyone who expects such, they are just wasting their time.