Domestic Dreams Dismantled

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They were used to me being girly

Fat.

Insecure.

Sensitive.

I dreamed to be a thin designer that put others under the control

of my charms

of my domesticity

A cook, a designer, a wife.

Then the world would neglect to critique my abnormality.

 

But maybe I was smart.

Analytic.

Demanding. 

Competive.

But maybe I was worth more than a spawl of suburban dreams.

 

What shocked them more than

My opinions    My wit    My sarcasm   My intelligence   My prowess  

My cability

Was (is) my indepence 

That their approval was (is) irrelevant.

 

I am a woman.  An unwavering, powerful person of potential.

Of change.

Of no standards of expectaion.

I create my own.

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