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The bittersweetness that is being a woman
I cry for my body
For my body has had labels put on it since it was born
For my body is far more important to the world than the soul inhabiting it
To be a little girl, is to be objectified
To be a teenage girl, is to be objectified
To be a woman, is to be objectified
I am an object in the eyes of law
and men; synonyms
I am terrified to bring a child into this world out of fear of it being a girl
Because that little girl
that teenage girl
that woman
will live a life of gawking eyes and unfair laws
But what if I create a child I do not want in this world?
For I know how awful it is to live a woman's life on Earth
My body
not my soul
my body will be punished
My body will be hated and ravaged
Or god forbid I do not want to bring a child into this world
I am not a woman without a child
Society says a woman must bare a child
Not for her
No not for her at all
But for the man who sleeps beside her
And wishes to populate the planet with more men like him
But let’s say I bare that child
That child you forced me to have and I did not want
You criticize me for not being a good woman
A good mother; synonyms
I cannot feed this baby you forced me to have
But if it dies once it’s gained consciousness and relationships that’s far easier than the thought of a dead fetus
I cry for my body
And any other womanly body
Any body
Anybody
Anybody who has been granted the bittersweetness that is being a woman
I wrote this piece, strangely, right before Roe V. Wade was overturned. It seems incredibly prevalent now. I hope I make you feel.