Becoming self-aware 

You took so much from me that night. My freedom and my sense

I remember the day I first took note of my body. I was sat on the top deck of of being.
my town’s carnival double decker, at the ripe age of 6.
For you it was a bit of fun as you took me home and did what
Me and another girl my age decided a better view was necessary so acquired you pleased with my drunk body.
that leverage through sitting on our knees… BIG MISTAKE. The police woman who had found me on the roads in the
  I looked down- why were my thighs twice the size of hers?
Why did the force of my calf make the fat spill out, whilst hers sat the early morning questioned me. She asked what had happened.
same?
Why was she cute and pocket sized, when I was built like a
bloody pit pony?

“Rapes a bit far don’t you think?” I had engrained in

my mind. I replied nothing to protect YOU. But why when you
abused your power and left me with nothing? 
Am I the only one seeing this?!?!?!
Do these zebra hot pants reveal too much?! 
I was confused… surely curves don’t kick in until
you’re at least 16.

“Your selfish. You scared everyone” she replied.

“What’s she like”

Welcome to womanhood I guess x
 Sheela na gig
‘A woman is the only thing I am afraid of that I know Denying my starring role and sexualizing my form, you have made me vulnerable,
will not hurt me.’ vulgar, a leering gutter to protect your precious establishment:
-Abraham Lincoln a symbol of the effect of lust. I lose my hair,
my teeth, my breast and I become a hole which you forcibly fill.
You fear me. My open legs, which could make me vulnerable, terrifies you.
Thrusting, violating, too ashamed to value, too ashamed to celebrate:  gash, axe wound,
The brashness in which I flaunt my nakedness makes you tut, claim that my
mark of the beast.
intent is evil but you can’t help but look in awe and wonderment at my beautiful form. with your shriveled sense of dominance that you use to try and beat me with.  
Don’t look too closely though or you might fall in. Lost forever in the folds of my
femininity.
You think that you have the power, Penis Power: able to penetrate, pound
and probe my inner space. You say that you too want equality and that you value my place in
Have you never thought about your vulnerability in this act? society but these platitudes are merely that:
One quick slice and you are sentenced to a life of
eunchdom.
Or at least a life of making third class porn and left pining after the mistreated love of
your life. The worm really did turn. phrases and empty gestures to keep me in my place.
Adorning the walls of churches and sacred places, my presence is felt by those who
I am not so easily manipulated, flattered or silenced.
know: Others see me as a gargoyle, a legacy of medieval superstition, warding off evil. There I remain, staring down, my tongue sticking out, brandishing my sex for all to
see.  
How, then, did I become synonymous with evil?   Neither time, censorship or vandalism has diminished my omnipresence.
I am reclaiming my rightful position.  
You could not handle my female power: you could not have me celebrated. You
could not handle the fact that I can handle myself. 
I will spread my legs.
If I don’t fulfill my quiet subservient role:
if I am a wise woman,
I will make you look and face your fears. You will no longer label me bitch, slut,
an assertive woman,
slag.  I will peer down at you from my position of power watching your every
a healer woman
movement and
then I am a target.
Step out of line, lady, and you will perish: look what happened to Lady Macbeth.
By showing the very core of my femininity, you claim that
I am dirty,
a whore,
asking for it.
I do not ask you for anything. I gave you life, nourished and nurtured you; why would
you will face my wrath if you ever defile one of my sisters again.
you limit my potential?
I got into my first relationship
when I was deep in my eating disorder.
At first it was like ecstasy. The
excitement and the butterflies kept me
full. I thought I was finally over
binging and purging. Obviously,
restrictions can only last so long- after
the initial elation I got hungry,
insatiable in fact.
I started binging late at night
after our meets as to me I always felt if
no one saw it wouldn’t count.
The starvation and binging left me
bloated and insecure as I no longer had
an empty and ravenous stomach.
I couldn’t be intimate with him.
I wouldn’t take of my top because of
my insecurities.
No matter what he said, no matter all
the compliments- they just didn’t mean
anything to me. I pushed and pushed
him away and starved myself from all
the rich adventures of a you want to keep
first love.
As the relationship escalated, my
the blood and the milk hidden
feelings for him weakened. I hated as if the womb and breast
myself for letting myself get like this-
never fed you
the only thing in the way was me.
He loved me and tried
to understand but I couldn’t let him in.
So, it ended up with it fizzling out.
It’s taught me so much though- our - rupi kaur
bodies are our vehicles for existence.
They’re important and beautiful in so
many different senses.
Life is too short to let your
insecurities stop you from living.
It’s hard- but with self-acceptance and
perseverance we can un learn the
poison from society and learn what
loving ourselves truly entails.
 Pressure to behave a certain way to fit in Being a girl is an art form. We are all born as blank canvases we are beautiful pieces of
Pressured to dress a certain way art that people feel the need to critique and point at

In school you’re told your skirt is too short and it’s distracting for the boys
Magazines where women are in front cover and they are being critiqued about their
body or body count

As girls our bodies are treated as sexual objects

Porn videos, men expect us all to look like the videos they watch and they perceptions
of sex is based of porn
Being a girl is having to be in control of birth control despite there being two
people in a relationship

Media exploits women as sexual objects

Being a girl is having to walk home with a group of people rather than on your
own past dark as one in four women are sexually assaulted.

When women are assaulted why are the main questions, what were you wearing? Were
you drunk?

Being as girl is not being able to order a pint of beer because it’s “unfeminine”
We are expected to live up to unrealistic beauty standards