Marks and Measures (Of a Woman)

Marks and Measures (Of a Woman)

What makes a real woman?

She asks

As she curls her hair, her lashes

While trying to stand up-right

*Stares at unpainted nails*

Her closet begs for change

Sentimental remnants long-since hanging by thread

Wear the black heels, they said

Raise your height so that you can actually be seen and heard

Take care of yourself so that others can take you seriously

Walk right, speak firmly but softly, don’t appear foolish

Act the part, and she might believe it

She sees her body as a vessel

Yet unsure of the role it’s meant to play

She’s no Victoria’s Secret Angel

Child-sized with flesh and muscles

Meant to give life and share intimacy

Untouched, but demanded to perform and please

Though not just in media or magazines

Sacred texts take it to the other extreme

Let a man lead without question

A clean home paves the wave to a clean heart

Look up at others, because she doesn’t know any better

She was not raised, but she can be taught!

Sensuality is a light switch

Still a performance, albeit joined by a ring

The images come together as I quiz my reflection

Preferring what’s in my head to what’s in the mirror

Fighting labels the way some have fought for autonomy

I am

Complex

Layered

Worthy of love and connection

A child-like heart molded by my Creator

Eclectic and multi-faceted

Wanting to be wanted, but still valuing independence

Dancing and laughing

Simultaneously wearing a cross around my neck

Shining gold or silver pairs with red lipstick

You cannot measure a woman by the size of her jeans

Or the height of her shoes

Beauty doesn’t necessarily fade

But it changes

We’re all different kinds of colors and flavors

Sweet, spicy, determined, and feisty

Marked not just by what we give

But how we love, embrace, and honor

Let’s honor ourselves as human beings

Speaking in kindness and bravery, with-holding judgement

That’s the real thing

photo credit: Time. via photopin (license)