Womanhood
Womanhood
There is a pressing question circulating my mind at all hours of the day. It bids me goodnight and comes again in my dreams. It furrows my eyebrows and makes my head ache. It makes me bite my fingernails until I bleed. Is there any joy in being a woman? If you would’ve asked me this six months ago, I would’ve said no. I would’ve said no because women are born with grueling, indescribable pain. On top of that we suffer the claustrophobic pressure of being under the male gaze. I was a cynical person back then. Now, I understand the joys of being a woman. I don’t feel reduced to a prim and perfect shell of person who is screaming on the inside. No, not at all. I’ve become wild and reckless, but most importantly I am unbound from the dreadful horror’s mankind places upon women. It truly is liberating. I have become what men fear the most: a man. Becoming a man has changed my perspective on life. I do what I want, drink what I want, want who I want, and there’s no repercussions. Imagine that! I get to kiss men in alleyways with nothing but a dim streetlight making him recognizable. I get to drink myself to a stupor. I get to speak my mind to those who tantalize me. Oh, it’s wonderful! Only if men can look at me now!
But there are some parts of me that are still woman. I feel. I cry to romantic literature. I yearn for adventurous love. I paint those who ought to be painted. I write love letters that will never be received. I cry by candles, so that my tears may only be illuminated by the light of a flame. I embrace art and music. I write the poetry I wish to live. I don’t tolerate reality. I wish for my life to change. I stare at the moon longingly. I kick the leaves on the ground in autumn. I am unapologetically tender in spirit. I scream. I rage. I kick. I protest. I feel. That’s what it’s like being a woman. To feel everything but accept absolutely nothing. The exultation in having the unbounded capacity to love. That’s the joy in being a woman. We should be triumphant of this great blessing. Because if we are not, then who will be?
