text: A woman’s life. The day began like this: I woke up in a rush, as I was quite late for the morning train. It was pouring rain outside, but it was too late to change my outfit though. I sprinted out the door to my car. I fell asleep in my outfit from the day before, a pair of jeans and a plaid button-up. I worked an IT job and was of course the only woman in the company. It was unusual where I live to have women doing ‘masculine’ jobs. Isn’t that strange? It’s such a small town too. In the middle of nowhere. Anyways, I ended up having to drive my car to the work building that day. On the way, though, I noticed something. It was quite peculiar. It was a smell. The smell of.. cookies? I don’t know what the importance of it is to me, but I do have to say it brought a memory back. A memory of my grandmother, my sister, and me. She would always talk while she was cooking about how women could do anything men could do. She was quite a feminist I must say. My sister, unfortunately, was troubled due to stereotypes. We didn’t grow up together and only had time to ourselves with our grandmother. She was raised by my parents to always wear pink or purple, dresses or skirts, flats or heels. No blue or green, pants or shorts, sneakers or sandals. ‘Beauty is pain’, my mother would say. I left that awful place when I was 9. My grandmother took me in. Not once have I ever been forced since then to wear dresses or skirts that are pink or purple. My sister though, up until the day she died wore only pink and purple outfits. In memory of her, I will wear pink and purple on her birthday and her day of death. I never understood why women were always expected to be less, and only to be seen as objects with the use of only cooking, cleaning, and caring for children. Not once have I ever wanted children, and I don’t have a desire to be a stay at home housewife. Once again, I spaced out. I got to work and walked in, as always I was met with many, many men staring at me. IT is not just a man’s job, it’s everyone's job. Both women and men can work at any job. It doesn’t matter the gender. I figured with my smarts and determination I knew I could do it. You know? I figured I could change stereotypes. Women can do anything men do. We might be emotional, but we’re strong-willed and light-hearted, that might be a bad thing at times though. A memory can bring back many things. Bad things, good things, even neutral things. Life is good, for most. A little bit of happiness brings joy. I think nowadays most women don’t have happiness because of stereotypes, and we can’t do things we enjoy. Women aren’t objects you know? I think that we can do anything, even work in an IT job. &#x200B; Edit: To a friend, who helped me realise that short stories are what I do, I sure hope you see this and that this volume and the other two will now be dedicated to you.