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A story of what a woman trivializes |
Trapped. In the center of my own breath the fire of my own mind and the swelling in my throat from words unspoken and dreams unrealized. I blame him. There is just no time No time between the business and fixing dinner the kids and the meetings there's never enough time to wear all the hats that fit my feminine head And not a single one is pretty or pink because that would surely make me weak I'm a Mother, a wife and executive and a teacher a sponsor, a woman a lover and a granddaughter a sponsee, a step mother the second wife and a leader The roles I pay are deep and meaningful And each of them I treasure. But there is a part of my soul Thats withering Thats somehow tethered I long to learn to read to research and stretch to have that space in time my children now have to just focus on me and who I want to be. I long to sculpt, to write, to sing and be a poet but success has been as much of a curse A door I cant open The same as when poverty closed it It keeps me trapped inside my desires because there's just no time to become to explore to look inside its selfish and silly Why now? Driven by perfection I deny myself the glory of crossing that stage with cap and gown or changing my story I have everything a woman could want a husband, a house, a career and a beautifully gown family everything a woman could have except me. I blame him I like to say he doesnt support me We argue about the worth of the time or money it would take to put me in the tiny boxes this country creates with education, and looks, and lables and things there’s nothing to learn there, certainly not going to find “me” Is that true? I’m confused. Could I ever just be free? Free to be me? Could I get fat or go back to school just for the sake of being there Could I stop earning and start paying for learning or do I count my blessings and keep my mouth shut keep a lid on the dreams? I used to blame him. The him of the past and the him before him and the them before that I've always had someone that I could place the blame on. Ones that didnt help and kept me doing the work all alone Ones that support me well but only while clibing up the ladder. When will this prison be revealed for what it is? A self made container where dreams go to die When will I see that I am the one denying me? That I can have anything I want when I stop asking for approval I will find it along with the key I blame him Its just easier that way than to think that I am the one who left me locked inside, dreams put away May I wake and set myself free Free to become what ever I may be what ever brings me joy, whether it has value or worth to him, or him, it's valuable to me. |