Dear Woman,
Your body is beautiful.
Your body was not birthed to give birth.
Your body does not owe this world a child.
Your body is beautiful.
Your body is not property.
Your body is not owned by a man or another human in this world.
Your body is beautiful.
Your body is strong.
Your body is phenomenal.
You are beautiful and you can do whatever the hell you want.
It all moves so fast.
Spinning
and
Spinning.
As though a child playing with its top,
A bin full of toys.
Made to move through life as if it were not our own.
Play by play
Scene by scene.
No room to choose
Nor moments to linger,
Wonder at our own existence.
Waiting, watching
For the few short moments when the child,
bored of its toys
Stops playing.
For the time when the toys can truly come to life,
Creating their own story.
A truth in the absence of the vertigo,
The constant spin.
The toys finally allowed their bliss.
Happiness.
Peace.
Time should always feel as such,
Existence our own.
But the child returns, wishing to play once more,
Forcing us into the narrative it creates.
Back into the stream with all the other toys.
Perhaps one day, the toys will
Break free.
One day the top will stop spinning,
The toys will then
Belong to no tale,
No rendering.
Left to write a chronicle all their own.
From my own perspective, the thoughts and feelings I chose to express here connect to the concepts of Queer Theory, in that often in society we are molded and sculpted, groomed to be something or someone from a very young age. We are placed in a queue, taught how to be in line with this view or that view, and often it is not until we are actually left to our own devices that we are able to think and shape ourselves as we see fit. As our individual selves.
There’s so many books out there
Many subjects to read
Thrilling, sad, maybe even some romance is nice.
There’s too many books out there to read.
Take a shot?
Go out of your comfort zone,
And read something you aren’t used to.
There’s not enough time, But you can sure give it a try.
Books may seem uninteresting, but once you're in.
Go all the way, don’t hold back.
Your world will be made your own.
There will never be enough time.
Read your heart away because
Your pages are turning
And —
Your book is coming to an end.
There's enough time for you
To make your story.
The way
YOU
Want it to be.
My favorite poet Rudy Francisco once wrote, “I sat inside a
room with nothing in it and realized it was still full. This is when I knew I
was enough.”.
How I learned I was enough was a rough journey.
I learned I was enough by self-advocating for myself. I
stood up to sexist men who told me I was a woman, and it was my job to stay at
home, not go to school.
I learned that I could more than what a woman “should” be.
I learned to not constrict myself in a box of what a woman
“should” be.
How is my room full?
I allow myself to feel my emotions including anger.
I allow myself to fall out of the role of a nurturer. I am
the authority.
I enjoy being in the work force.
I enjoy speaking my mind in public and when I am asked.
I enjoy learning and researching.
I will not be confined to the box of what “womanhood” should
be laid out by society.
Slam Poem
I had a moment when my mom texted me to celebrate my cousin's birthday, you see. It was 8:30 on a Saturday night. I had taken off all my makeup and just relaxed. Being ‘me’
“Come eat cake, pick you up in a bit.”
The first thought was, I don’t have on my facade.
But I’m just going with family, I can just be me? Right?
“He is bringing a friend too.”
That’s when my mind started to lose its composure, they are going to see me like this. My whole attention went,
“You have to look pretty!”
I rushed and brushed my hair, put on my false front. I paused once I had on my public mask, and simply I looked at myself in the mirror, I stared at the person in front of me. The reflection in the mirror was not who I am. Why did I just rush for a person, I don’t even know, a person who was only going to see me for an hour or so? The foolishness that went into that thought was, is this who I really am? Now don’t get me wrong I wear makeup because I enjoy putting it on, but for some reason, I have thought maybe sometimes even an urge in the back of my head telling me that I’m putting this on to impress people. Why do we feel that we have to live up to an image fanfare? Contrary to what you see in the media, we are not all supposed to look the same. We were all built differently but why is that so wrong?
Why do we have this voice in our heads telling us,
“YOU HAVE TO BE SKINNY.”
“YOU HAVE TO BE PRETTY.”
“YOU HAVE TO HAVE THE PERFECT BODY.”
Beauty is not a dependent. You could be the prettiest girl but you could have the worst personality. It all comes down to who we are, not who they want us to be. We don’t teach ourselves to hate our bodies. THEY do. There should be no such thing as a ‘beauty standard’. THEY are corrupting our minds with advertisements and corporations who shame us just to buy their products to make us feel pretty? We don’t have to live up to the false image that everyone wants because, in the end, we will only have ourselves. Yes, of course, family is always there and sometimes friends are too. The only person you should need the acceptance of is our own. Not your friends, not strangers, not the media, but yourself. Look at yourself in the mirror and say: “Don’t give up, smile, keep going, work for what you want because you are still young and you will rise up, I am free to be me!”
Our happiness should not depend on others. We will always have our ups and downs, and have times where we feel the lowest of the lows and won’t feel like trying anymore but trust me it will be worth it. I know we can do it, I know we will be who we want to be, not who they want to see because it's okay to have imperfections. We all have them! You are worth it. Everyone will always have their opinions, it's just how it is. Don’t let that change how you feel about yourself, we can’t be obsessed with how others see us. The opinion is being comfortable with who you are and not changing for the acceptance of others. You will be the one who sticks by your side through thick and thin. With or without perfect skin.
On the night I consider coming out to my parents
after Julian Randall
My hands are cold. I am afraid: can I do such things through the phone? It won’t hurt so much when my mother cites ancient texts instead of her heart. A thousand miles away my parents are praying for me in between their evangelical twists and turns. A small girl grew up, somehow. Grew up and fell in love with her best friends. My hands are cold. Where has all my blood gone? A thousand lightyears away my Jesus is crying. It isn’t real love if I have to ask for it, if I have to extract it from your dissected prayers, somehow. Can I step into the light if it means I’ll be standing alone? I am afraid: I stare at my phone. I am no one's eulogy and no one's prose. There are cracks in the binding of my bible in the binding of my spine from standing up straight. My hands are cold.
As a mon of a son who is gay, I will never be ashamed of who he is. And what he will go up to be. I will be so proud of him no matter what he does.
Being Gay
My young son came to me one day,
He looked at me and said nervously, Mum I an Gay.
I looked at him, hugged him and smiled,
I always knew he was a special child.
My only child and he is Gay,
What do you think I would say?
Well it was hard to assimilate at first,
For mothers have great dreams for their children at birth.
To grow up be happy, and marry some day,
So as I could have grand kids to take out to play.
So my dreams as a mother were not to be,
I was just do glad my son was at last free.
Free to be with his own kind,
So as his mother I do not really mind.
To know my son is true to himself,
Not trying to be somebody else.
To teach other people is now my mission in life,
TO UNDERSTAND HOMOSEXUALITY AND THAT IT
DOES NOT MEAN STRIFE.
My son being Gay has brought me so much joy now that he is free.
He will always be the most courageous and precious son to me.
Pamela D.V.W. 1995
I will always be there for my son through the thick and thin. I am his biggest supporter!