MAY WE NEVER STOP FIGHTING LIKE GIRLS
March 2021
There isn't a single thing about being a woman that does not move me.
It is either too much beauty or too much pain. It is the strength of our sisterhood or the blindfold they have imposed to prevent us from seeing the damage that we've been put through.
Because they know, they know that the moment we see it we will fight. And they don't want us to fight.
They know, they know that fighting like a girl does not mean weakness. They don't want to deal with the persistence, the relentless spirit of a girl.
They know, and they very well, that fighting girls drains their minds. It is humiliating for them to find out that a girl can fight so damn well. That a girl can put up with everything.
But they don't know, and they will never know, that the girl's fire is born from a spark in her gut. That it is the result of condemnation, that it arises the moment she understands that — her whole life -- she will have no choice but to fight in order to exist.
And they do not know, and they will never know, that the girl does not step on their shadows because she aims to reach them, nor to be at their mercy, but to hide from them and their irrational hatred of women.
Let them know, let everyone know, that girls are tired of living in fear. That we will not be silent, that they will never again have the comfort of our silence. That our fire will consume it all.
We are going to fight like girls, because fighting like girls is how they can't beat us.
DETACHMENT
July 2020
I met you the day that I was left alone at home. The day I realized that my room was bigger than I thought, that silence was louder than noise and, somehow, I preferred it like that. It wasn't until I left, for the first time and completely on my own, that I was able to see you up close.
I thought we had drifted apart, but here you are. Peeking out every time I look forward and outside. If I could give you a shape, you would be a chain; one of those with heavy links that can barely interlock with each other due to their thickness. A chain that limits me within four walls, or to be fair and realistic, within a few kilometers from my birth crib. You overwhelm me, and sometimes I see and feel the internal scars that are a constant reminder of you holding me here. Tied up.
It took a lot of work to understand, after entertaining this thought, that it is not you. It is not you who holds and limits me. No, detachment, it is not you. You are the one who pushes me when I am not ready to give one step forward, who packs the bags without thinking it twice, who fuels my dreams, my legs, my hands.
For so long you haunted me, but now that I see you straight ahead, I understand you. I can see why you are like this, so impatient and impulsive, so desperate, so brave. Sometimes, I feel like that too. But I cannot allow myself to give in control to you. I understand, and I order you to take a seat. For you to be the one who understands that it will be at my pace, and not yours, how we will walk whenever I decide to walk away.
Without you, taking the wheel of my life with outburst and without consent, it is up to me to choose. Without your pressure, it doesn't look so bad out there anymore. Now I am very clear that we will follow the path that I believe is right at my time, at my own pace and on my own terms.
I thought we had drifted apart, but here you are. Peeking out every time I look forward and outside. If I could give you a shape, you would be a chain; one of those with heavy links that can barely interlock with each other due to their thickness. A chain that limits me within four walls, or to be fair and realistic, within a few kilometers from my birth crib. You overwhelm me, and sometimes I see and feel the internal scars that are a constant reminder of you holding me here. Tied up.
It took a lot of work to understand, after entertaining this thought, that it is not you. It is not you who holds and limits me. No, detachment, it is not you. You are the one who pushes me when I am not ready to give one step forward, who packs the bags without thinking it twice, who fuels my dreams, my legs, my hands.
For so long you haunted me, but now that I see you straight ahead, I understand you. I can see why you are like this, so impatient and impulsive, so desperate, so brave. Sometimes, I feel like that too. But I cannot allow myself to give in control to you. I understand, and I order you to take a seat. For you to be the one who understands that it will be at my pace, and not yours, how we will walk whenever I decide to walk away.
Without you, taking the wheel of my life with outburst and without consent, it is up to me to choose. Without your pressure, it doesn't look so bad out there anymore. Now I am very clear that we will follow the path that I believe is right at my time, at my own pace and on my own terms.
All rights reserved. The content of this website is protected by copyright. |
|
