by Charlie Marie


Each and every woman out there is part wild animal and part dismayed little girl. Each of unique specimen and each tossed into the wilderness the exact same way, scared shitless and just trying to get by. We each have our own paths and obstacles but regardless of origin we share the same treacherous battle field that it is to be a woman in this life.

Everyone for themselves.


My mother, was a bear.

Moved from forest to foster home for longer than she could remember, but wouldn’t let her circumstances swallow her potential. And so, she chose to grow into a solid, grounded, beautiful warrior rather than the beast everyone around her was bracing for. Not a fearless leader, but one who’s instincts recognize when fear is crucial. Not the soldier who wins all the battles, but one who is sensible enough to know which wars are worth fighting.

She doesn’t have to fight much anymore.

Now, she is a caring mama bear. Gentle and kind. Unless you mess with her kids. My mother loves nothing more than her children and would do anything for their wellbeing. she is wise. She remembers what it was to be finding your way through the detrimental peril of the wilderness, and rather than resenting the scars she braved along the way, she appreciates them because they allow her to try and prevent others from falling into the same traps she did.


Each and every woman out there is part wild animal and part biological anomaly. We scratch, claw and wrestle our way through the wicked ring masters whiplashes one at a time, refusing to jump through ONE MORE HOOP for a boy’s club society.

I once had a best friend who was a complete snake. She was known to suffocate others and constantly left the people around her gasping for freedom.

It’s a fairly well known fact that snakes don’t eat often. Typically, a snake will consume a meal once every week or two. Her seemingly flawless and slim figure was envy worthy and as if out of the garden of Eden to temp me with the fruit of evil, it was this fucking snake who somehow convinced me that to look so slender and thin, eating once weekly was the swiftest highway to being     just   like   her  .         But in eventually “besting” her at her own game, I failed to grasp that although snakes are striking, they are also scaly, feared, empty and alone.

And in turn,

That’s what I became.


However, I have sympathy for the snake that taught me to fall in love with endless bones and constant emptiness. Deep inside, she was just a terrified caterpillar acting like a snake in attempt to survive while she waited for the next, better stage of her life to begin.


Each and every woman out there is a wild animal tamed by insecurity. You think girls are crazy??          You haven’t seen anything yet. Forget crazy, ladies? Let’s show them down right FERAL!

I’ve met bats, rats, bitches and weasels. I’ve loved battered seals and snails who live in pure panic of ever leaving their shells. I once witnessed a good and honest ferret steal, not because she wanted to, but because ferret means thief in pig Latin – or something? And she got so tired of running from her reputation that eventually,

She became it.

I have known she wolves who would howl out into the darkness and have others simply mock their cries.                  And so, they became lone wolves, not because they enjoy being alone, but because they were heartbroken by the consequences of trusting others enough to let them in.


Each and every woman out there is part wild animal and part GOD HERSELF!

The tide of survival is up to our necks and we are forced to push each other aside or under in an attempt to stay afloat if we don’t know how to swim. Some of us… get lucky. We come into this world with wings or gills, talons or flippers. A single or multiple advantages handed to us at birth. Others, so desperate to fight the waves, will learn to swim as they go along. And the rest, will drown. There are beautiful creatures everywhere drowning and nothing can be done because rural, wild or urban, that’s just life.

I used to be a kitten. Soft, fragile, innocent. Until I was tossed out into the wild. Then all at once, I was forced to grow up. So I covered my arms and hips with stripes. I painted myself red and I swore that the pain I caused myself would make me stronger or turn me into something divine.

But it never did.

Now I am a tigress. Not because I scarred myself with stripes but because I was never a kitten to begin with. I was a naked cub all along, already out in the wilderness. I just didn’t know it yet.


Each and every woman out there is a wild animal. Is this what they meant by girls gone wild? Ha, we are girls gone wild but this isn’t porn hub. In real life we are not just naked bodies waltzing in front of your eyes waiting for the taking. We girls are wild but this isn’t animal planet. We are more than just something incredible to look at. We are essential beings to this planet and demand to be put forth as more than a skeptical or a punch line.


Every single woman out there is a wild animal. So bear your teeth and talons, put those claws to good use, ruffle your feathers, tuck in your tail, let your mane fly free and get ready for a fucking fight.   Because one by one we are breaking out of this man made cage.

 Ready to bite the hand that beat us.