The Garden That Refused to Wilt
There was once a garden, lush and wild, where flowers didn’t always blossom as expected. Roses bore thorns; vines wrapped themselves around fences; the soil rich and dark nourished roots too deep for any person to uproot them; people would pass by, plucking petals without permission but expecting that it would remain sweet, docile, constantly flowering.
One day, the garden began fighting back.
Thorns caused injuries. Vines caught trespassers. Soil devoured seeds that did not belong. And all told, the garden whispered its warning: “I am not here for your taking”.
This is the tale of women who refuse to be plucked.
Society holds two sides to the equation when it comes to “Free Fucks.” One side represents what women give, while the other represents what can be taken.
Respect must be earned through compliance. For pleasure to be experienced, it must first serve another.
Femininity refers to this script where women must soften, soothe, and surrender. If touched without consent, smile as soon as the touch ceases. Make resentful comments while cooking breakfast in bed. Spread legs out like an open ledger of transactions disguised as tenderness.
What happens if a woman opens the ledger and burns it?
She wasn’t always this way. Once upon a time, she thought love meant giving in. Now, however, she stands firm.
One day, a stranger spoke up: You are too much: too loud, too sharp and too hungry.”
“Good. Now pay for it.” she replied with a smile.
He laughed it off as an innocent joke until she walked away and demanded not to be asked her time, her body and her mind be valued in a currency that reflected its worth. He quickly saw through this lie.
He called her an arrogant woman while she considered it part of doing business.
Nature does not tolerate abuse of any kind: rivers flood, storms ravage cities, and volcanoes bury empires. Nature’s response can only be described as violent and decisive.
Women can become just as angry.
They want her to be like a still, peaceful pond reflecting their personalities and needs, but the ocean can quickly overwhelm those who underestimate its depths.
- The Corporate Witch. She was told to “play by the rules,” yet men took credit instead of her. So she played by her own rules, negotiating raises like an experienced predator, leaving companies scrambling when she quit, and creating her empire from their indignities.
- They expected her to fade into motherhood as an empty shell; instead, she taught her children the art of biting their nails and kneeling, not for prayer but to scrub floors! “If I am to serve,” she stated, “you will learn what service truly costs.”
Let me be clear: this is not cruelty; it is simply accounting.
If society treats her like an item for sale, she becomes her merchant, and merchants don’t give discounts to customers who devalue them.
The Man Who Thought She’d Wait He left for a “break,” expecting that his relationship would wane without him there; when he returned, however, she had gone; in her place was another woman who knew exactly how much they owed him and knew the price they’d charge to borrow money. In response to his pleas for assistance, she charged interest at their rate and charged more to borrow even more money from him.
The Boss Who Called Her “Emotional” She wept once during a meeting. Afterwards, she delivered to him her resignation letter as well as an invoice for emotional labour. You want tears? Pay for them
When someone said, ‘You aren’t Like Other Girls”, she responded by noting, “Other girls work for free while I don’t”.
Building Trust Within Herself. She doesn’t consider herself lesbian or straight; in fact, society labels and categorises her differently every time it sees her.
She loves herself not because it is perfect but simply because it is hers, scars, fire, hunger and all! She owns all aspects of herself that define who she is as an individual.
When the world tells her to “soften up,” she sharpens.
When they suggest giving something up for free, she responds with: “What’s in it for me?” Finally, when they suggest she will die alone, she laughs: ‘Better that than living as your slave.”
Final Lesson: Don’t Fuck for Free
Flowers don’t bloom to be plucked. Storms don’t rage to be controlled. And women don’t love so that they can be owned.
If you want her, pay. Respectfully. Equally. With gold.
Are You Wanting Something Which Isn’t Available to You?
She will ruin you and never even blink twice.
Because strong ecosystems don’t negotiate with parasites.
They intentionally burned them to death.