There’s something glorious about being a woman

Like the feel of Saturday mornings when you don’t have to go anywhere

And the sky is painted with lilacs and periwinkle and you wonder

“Why do I ever go to Sunday school

When I can learn about God from my bedroom window”

It’s 6 am and you understand the intricate beauty of bending golden rays,

--not only is the air silky in its frigid touch

It smells of the fresh dew drops painted so delicately on the earth below

And invites itself in to linger on your skin

You can play connect the dots with goose bumps to freckles to acne

Oh, it’s one of those mornings when your imperfections are enough, you are enough

 

Your second floor apartment  

Feels like a castle tower and you are a queen

Today life is a gift, wrapped with lavender skies

Finally in your mind you can push aside the forced salads

100 calorie days, abc diets, thigh gaps, collar bones

No more silencing your body much like you silence your voice

To offend is to be human, to be loud is be a woman—there is nothing quiet, about being one

 

And god doesn’t it feel great

When you can kiss whoever you want

Wear your skin color proudly across sidewalks

Wear your gender, your personality, your identity,

Without the burden of feeling judgment as it radiates from the mainstream

 

Today it’s okay to wear baggy sweat pants and loose tees,

The need to be, a lady has been erased and replaced by being human

Today it’s okay to dress in what

magazines and media screens forced us all to believe to be weird, abnormal

Isn’t it glorious that in this gorgeous moment you finally don’t feel like

Less than human, minuscule

No, you are astronomic, a force of nature

 

Picture this:

You are a baby again and

Mommy’s arms are as pleasant and warm as those spring days

It’s the April of your life and Daddy loves you and you are not broken
and the toilet bowl doesn’t scream to you yet, and cat calls are just meows

Don’t you remember how lovely it feels to run around outside all night

Nothing is there in the shadows yet, nothing will get you, you are safe

You could reach your hands to Orion, Bellatrix, and Pollux

And you would find God standing among them

Bathing you in all of springs delicious breezes, a time of peace

And mom just whispers, as the street lights go on,

Be safe

Tread lightly

 

But she doesn’t warn you about the bruises she endured

Or the beatings you’ll find yourself giving to your own body

She doesn’t warn you about the way one day your skin

Will feel more like rat pellets and less like flower petals

The taste of iron after runs will be the only thing you want consume

 

She won’t tell you that, men will look at you the way

You look at candy when walking by a convenience store

You are cheap until you are not,

They determine your worth,

somehow you lost your say while playing hide and seek under street lights

there came a day where someone who wasn’t mom or dad could touch you

suddenly, you didn’t play with dolls, you were one

But

There is still something beautiful about being a woman

And never speaking about the trials you will go through

Only the motions you will follow

And she wants you to be a flower, cared for in a vase

A bird kept in a dainty, little skeleton cage

 

But no, not today—and you scream

“mom don’t you know, I am no caged thing!”

And now you see that god was there even when

Those hands that were supposed to protect you

decided to lay on you violet shades of violence and

Helped wrap you up in a blanket of self-hatred

that you didn’t realize you began sewing long before you actually learned

No--today you are stronger

Because yesterday you learned

That now you can never let this stand

Ever again

 

You are the very goddess

That embodies the sexual experiences

Men dream of

And you have the power to deny him or anyone

Even the simple pleasure of exposure

If you deem it

You are Shiva you are Venus you are Athena

You are

You are

You are

Powerful

 

Because there is something magical about being a woman

And the moment you realize you are no longer a paper doll living in a fiery world

More like an Iron Lady with the power to manipulate

Or eradicate the steel chains that held back all your fallen sisters

 

OH! How, the, sky, will

Snatch

Those purple hues

With autumn wind off

Goose bump-y skin

And turn them into beautiful portraits in the morning air

Because somehow there is a god

Even when there isn’t