Oh, Mama, how i suffer. Ive never been like other girls. ive warned im not the one for him. Too bold, too strong, my thoughts too much, my voice too loud. Im not the one to sit at home. He didnt like that i bit back, im "scandalous", he said. I talked too much to other boys, looked at my phone too little. My skirt too short, my dress too long, attracted too many eyes. Ive always loved to dance.. they couldnt take that from me. I danced with all my heart and all i heard was "slut". The hands that touched without consent, his friends have called me many names. I wasnt cute or sweet and, hell, i wasnt quiet.
Perhaps i should have kept my mouth shut, but, Mama, you know better. You know i have a voice of steel, a tongue as sharp as knives. For when he saw my anger burst all he could do was run and hide. Each blow aiming straight for his head, i always know where to strike. They think i got that from my dad...They told me to quiet down, but ill tell you a secret. It was not my voice that bothered them. It was my brain and my spirit. I can be caring, i can love after all, but im ambitious and i fight but they know i can rummage the world.
Oh, Mama, please forgive me. I know i've been away for long. I know i disappeared. I hope you understand, i simply couldnt stand it. You see, i saw him and it isnt fair. His lips touching lips that weren't mine. His hands caressing strangers bodies, only to laugh at them with his friends afterwards. I heard him call them "fat". I heard him call them "stupid". Words ive heard too often, words i taught myself to pronounce from a very young age. Im not a people pleaser. I dont care what they think. Maybe that's why they dont come up to talk.
They see me walking down the street, the dark disaster that i am: not ladylike, not pink, not sparkly. I know i dont fit in. Why must i, though? Why shouldnt they? Why must i study the arts, get married and have children? Why can they mess around and sleep around, why is that okay? Why must we be the only ones to pay with our bodies and our future for the mistakes and accidents they also took part in? Why must i clean the table? You taught me well.. I can cook, i can wash and i can clean, but, Mama, that's not me.
I am Woman and im ten times the "man" they'll ever be.
