On the train platform

Two girls are on the same train platform as me

They are younger, their parents are nearby I'm sure

There's a glass wall barricading us from the tracks

I use the reflection to see what I need to touch up, how I look

I see the taller of the girls, probably the older sister

She's acting out exaggerated dance moves in her own reflection

Her younger sister is looking around

As if to make sure no one is associating her with the awkward movements

And when she is sure that no one, not a soul, will think she is silly

She laughs

There's a photo of me when I was the age of the taller girl

I'm at a local splash pad wearing pink fuzzy pajama shorts

And a ratty t-shirt I had been told for years I would grow into

I'm soaked head to toe with my hands held up in victory

I don't remember the last time I was so okay with looking silly

I try to notice something about as many women as I can

Something I like about her outfit

Something I envy in how she carries herself

I look out for girls who need a smile

Or a safe space

Or a friendly presence

I can't help but notice the children

The small girls who are navigating the world

The small girl who haven't learned the punishments

I can tell when they've learned a lesson that can't be taken back

When they don't want to know but they do

Now they can't be silly, or draw attention to themselves

They look in the mirror to check for flaws

They perform for the endless audience of the world

When I see these children, these small girls learning the rules

They will find their own ways of breaking their mould

They will find their own way to escape their fate

I know they don't understand that this is a lifelong sentence

We can't unlearn this, but we will persist