I am woman; I am tired of roaring.
For as long as I can remember, my throat has burned from the constant constriction of my vocal chords fighting to be heard in a world where I was made second.
From his rib, you were formed, by his side you shall stay…
If it helps you accept it, you can think of it as opposite him…
He needs you to make a better him even though you don’t need him to do anything except plant his seed…
I knew the word he before she.
I saw his accomplishments as ultimate goals and was shown how to play a supporting role.
I was taught to speak softly, walk gently, keep my hips from lilting.
I was told to be still, stay low, be less woman, be more girl and not to share my song.
I was shown his desires and told to shut up, sit down and take it.
You are a woman…it is your place…
I fought it.
I fought it so hard it made me bleed all over the smooth foundation of everything I thought I should be building on.
I scratched my skin with knives to see if the blood matched his and when I saw it flow I knew he could never understand because life didn’t expect him to bleed.
I roared so damn loud, it tore my voice from me and almost made me mute.
I am woman.
I am tired of roaring.
So I teach my daughter that she is human first.
I teach her she can do anything she sets her mind to.
I teach her that her shape is not her definition.
I teach her to stand up and speak clearly and firmly.
I teach her how to listen.
I teach my son the exact same thing.
I am woman and I am so damn tired of roaring.
I am woman; hear me.