a fair trade

and indeed there will be time, he says,

for a hundred decisions and indecisions.

decisions and positions; incisions,

precisions, inflictions,

parades of opinions.

leers and jeers from the powers that be

to turn my "beauty" back around on me.

turning my capabilities into my oppression,

and insecurities in my obsession.

fight or flight; unfathomable plight.

i wonder what it's like to fear that the people

i dominate might actually be better and not inferior.

women are the victims, but we've never played that part.

we've been blamed for our own rape and brushed

off heartache and hate.

we've been trained to think we're weak,

to take what we can get because we just

might be too powerful if we accept anything but defeat.

when nora slammed the door we shut out

domesticity and in return gained our own image

as a commodity. i traded my corset for an eating disorder,

my heart for brains, and we started living our lives in fear.

carrying my most vital organ out in the open air, every

day my self esteem is targeted because my

looks is thing upon which is most important for others to care.*

i am decided upon before i speak,

and that is why i have been silenced,

and that is why i have been weak.

and that is why these things take so much time.

and time running out for beauty will fade,

living in fear of old age.

a hundred decisions and indecisions,

and the words of my beloved poet

stare back at me,

all my indecisions crippling me.

all this time i've wasted, and tasted

only barely the sweetness of coming out on top.

in a cage of double - triple - quadruple standards,

i'm simply told to "try harder."

in a society with a giant wage gap no wonder

women feel worth less.

but i am going to continue functioning as a breathing,

digesting, blood pumping human whether i'm here or there,

whether i'm rich or poor,

whether its fair or unfair,

and whether i like it or not.

and whether or not a standard of beauty is placed upon

me by others or myself.

and no one can help me because you can't get self-confidence

from someone else.

you can't get pretty from a bottle.

you're not even guaranteed happiness from a partner.

you don't become more of a lady by wearing perfume,

and you don't become more of a man by wearing boxers.

try harder but stop trying too hard.

happiness might come when i've learned to

stop worrying and stop controlling unnecessary things

in my life and perhaps

when i can open my arms to the sky and say,

"yes, i can feel you, i hold half of you up!"

*from naomi wolf's the beauty myth