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Seven.

He grunts softly as his head is thrown back and he is rocked within his holdings. A tooth, half rotten and loose already goes flying from between his lips with a gob of spit and blood. Blood dribbles down his chin and when he slumps forwards it drips into a growing puddle between his bare feet.

What is a woman?

We are told women are mothers; they are sweet and caring. Soft and beautiful, putting others before themselves to make sure that someone else's happiness is the number one priority. Women are compliant – women do not deviate from the norm, they follow the rules, are fearful of breaking them and the consequences that come of that. Women are vulnerable. Women cower at the darkness and need a hand to hold when facing the truth. The sheer thought of having to ‘go it alone’ strikes a fatal arrow straight through their heart, breaking it into a thousand miniscule pieces that will leave her broken from now until the end of time. Women are emotional, submissive and dependent. Women, just simply, can’t.

But – women are mothers, they are sweet and caring but they struggle and they cope. They take shit, give shit, fall nine times but get up ten and still manage to dust themselves off. Women are soft and beautiful both inside and out, but only the naïve would be fooled by this; women have the potential to be brute forces who are powerful, tough and violent. Women can be the darkness and make the light flee in fear, women can be the light and give back everything the darkness stole. Women are more than capable of having to ‘go it alone’ – their hearts are hardened by independence and their souls are made, betrayed, obeyed and played but above all else: a blade. Women are dangerous. Women can, and women will.

Women are wolves.

For years, I was a girl: too afraid to let go of the things I thought that defined me. I can think of them now and feel a sense of liberation in knowing I am free from the chains these moments locked me in: a fragile childhood, a missing mum and the death of my grandfather. When you're teetering on the line between finding yourself and losing yourself, there is something innate within that forces you to hold onto the moments that 'made you' the person you are today. The 'make or break' moments that trigger a fight or flight response; it's human nature and it is something that is hard to defy. My human nature was working against me – it was making me a victim.

I’d wake up and feel fractured. I’d feel like I had broken every mirror in the entire district and was on the edge of having the worst luck imaginable. I’d be all smiles, all day just to please the people around me rather than please myself. I’d feel like being silent and listening to my devilish side was making me strong. It was feigned brilliance back then, fool’s gold caught in my mind and eventually, it all faded away.

There was a defiant spark within me, and as much I wanted to extinguish it, I didn’t let myself. I took myself to the mirror, stared at myself dead in the eye and promised myself to burn. It was the start of something new – I became a woman.

Perhaps this epiphany did harden me up, but it was what I needed. I had mind and attitude, but I didn’t realise that meant people would perceive me as a bad guy. I should not feel the need to apologise for putting myself first, for being only a tad bit selfish after being selfless for so long. Standing up for what you believe in is usually praised because you show courage and bravery, because you channel your rage into power. Why is it that when you believe in yourself and stand up for that, you are called a 'broken' person?

I had taken my past and bent it into armour, shame on them if their words like swords are no match for my defences. Scars to stars, wounds to wisdom; a fragile childhood was no longer something to blame, it was a signal of my growth. Being weak in childhood meant that being stronger now was an even greater feat because the progress was so monumental. The death of my grandfather taught me that it is okay to be angry and sad at the same time. Being angry is a right – no one can deny you of that feeling or tell you that you are wrong to feel it. Anger is a signal: take pride, take responsibility and own it.

Learning from not having a present mother would always be difficult. She is meant to be the one person who will always be there for you, no matter the circumstances. I was determined to turn it into something to stop me from breaking. I learnt that having a missing mother helped shape my own definition of what it means to be a woman – I taught myself the fundamentals of femininity and raised myself on mind, muscle and magnitude. That gave me peace of mind because even though she’s gone, she still taught me all I need to know.

And so, to the person that called me ‘broken’: do not deny who I am just because I am different. Resilience and being on the offence does not constitute a ‘broken’ person, honesty does not make a ‘broken’ person, embracing fear does not make a ‘broken’ person, asking questions does not make a ‘broken’ person, having a sharp tongue, a quick wit and standing up for what you believe in does not make a ‘broken’ person. Falling down and getting up does not make a ‘broken’ person, answering back does not make a ‘broken’ person, letting go, taking ownership, feeling free, being angry, being mean does not make a ‘broken’ person.

"Cassia Oretio!"

I'm still not broken, and I'm not going to break. I am a wolf, bitch – I am a woman.