Nice girls don't get angry. Nice girls don't complain. They don't yell, they don't scream, they don't swear, they don't fight. Nice girls don't rock the boat. They don't drink, they don't smoke. They don't spit, they don't hit. Sugar and spice, and everything nice, that's what little girls are made of.
Teach it to your daughters, your sisters. It makes them tame, keeps them easier to control. Keep them sweet, teach them that being "nice," being a "lady" is the most important thing. After all, if you're not, the alternative is just unthinkable. Teach them that, get it into their heads young, and keep stomping it in there. If you teach them well enough, they'll barely be able to think for themselves, once some man gets the leash snapped on right. She won't have to worry her pretty little head about having her own opinions, he'll give her the ones he wants her to have.
By the time she's grown, she won't even question it. Her concept of what a woman should be will be set in concrete, and stepping outside of that concept will take her so far outside of the comfort zone you've installed that she'll resist it without even thinking about it.
It isn't ladylike. Bottle it up, shove it down, bury it deep. Get so good at it that you don't even recognize it in yourself any more. Angry? Deep breaths, don't worry, it'll pass. Sure, it'll pass. It'll go right to your gut, coil up with the rest of it that you've swallowed over a lifetime until it eats you up from the inside. But, no need to worry about that, after all, you're a NICE girl.
Do it well enough, when you finally DO get pushed too far, you won't even know yourself. You won't recognize that banshee howling her fury and pain at the world, if she can even manage to open her teeth. You'll be more shocked than anybody when your hand finally flies. Just a slap, barely a tap, nothing like the punch you know you COULD throw. (Those karate lessons in college? REALLY not ladylike, how DID you manage to do that?) Nothing but fingertips across the chin, but still something that shakes you to your core. Nice girls just don't DO that, and that's what you are isn't it?
Not any more.
The concrete is crumbling. Take a sledgehammer to it, and that's gonna happen.
I'm getting to know that banshee in the mirror. She may not be a "nice girl," but you know what? She's stronger than I thought she was. She's been frozen in stone for a long time, but she's starting to find her feet. You bastards haven't managed to kill her, for all your trying. We're going to get to know each other pretty damn well, I think.
Being a "nice girl" all the time has gotten me nothing but kicked around.
I have some things I need to learn from the banshee.
Or kill me.