Pits of Despair

Look at her!
Who told her she could wear that?
Oh my god.
What was she thinking?
Who lets her go out of the house like that?

Doesn’t she feel uncomfortable?
Doesn’t she have a mirror? 

(Yes, she does. She has the best mirror of all
It’s not made of glass
It is unbreakable
It’s not the mirror of a lover that showers her with compliments
It is a mirror made of her own I-don’t-give-a-shitness.
She owns it
She carries it with her
No one forced her to cover it up with cloth
No one told her to keep it to herself
No one shushed it out of her
Shamed it out of her
Embarrassed it out of her
Brainwashed it out of her
Blamed it out of her
Ridiculed it out of her
Objectified it out of her
Oppressed it out of her
Abused it out of her
Beat it out of her.
Or maybe they did.

Maybe someone did.
And she had to fight to get it back
She had to kick and scream and scratch and scrape
And claw herself back up
out of the depths of that darkness
out of that place of blame and shame
up to the light.

And wearing those shoes
those shorts
that dress
that bikini
and bleaching her hair
painting her face
shaving her head
tattooing her body
not shaving her armpits
maybe that is her reminder
every day
her constant reminder
that she is in control now
that she is self assured
she is independent
she is worthy
she is powerful

she is proud.
and she is free to choose.

Who told her she could wear that?
She did.  
So please
shut your mouth
and move along).

Look at her.


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