Obviously, Doctor, you’ve never been a 13 year old girl
Being a woman feels like guilt when you have to compete with other women. It feels like regret when you have to put down other women to make yourself feel seen. Being a woman feels like committing a sin when you show a man pictures of other women and he says, “You’re more beautiful.” It’s not about being prettier than someone else. Why do they have the audacity to compare us?
Being a woman feels like a fever dream, only a glimpse of our life is known. Orange is such a warm colour, and I like how my mom ties my hair. I like the way wearing white dresses makes me feel. I have fantasies of falling in love, holding hands with my loved one, feeling their embrace. But, to be seen is such a liberty.
I was born from a daughter, not a son, and I’m glad it seems to serve you. I was born with pain, grew up with anguish, and became an adult with agony. I’m angry almost all the time. This anger is what drove me. Yet, my heart overflows with love. I got it from my mom, and all the women before her.
Being a woman feels shameful, even writing this leaves stains and spots all over my hands. I’ll never know what is wrong with my body, and I’ll never stop feeling uncomfortable with how I’m put up. Being a woman is such a fall from grace, but what is grace in this cruel world that doesn’t accept it?
Being a woman is like a living corpse.
We were born and will die with pain built in us.
