Her Curriculum

I am a little girl.

I need to hold your hand.

I can’t go off on my own.

Barbie ™  taught me that I could be anything I wanted to be.

The Disney Princesses taught me to dream.

My mother taught me to always pursue those dreams.
I could accomplish anything I set my mind to. 

I was bubbly and bright, and sugary sweet.

Mama put pretty pink ribbons in my pigtails and sent me off to Kindergarten.

And then Elementary School.

And then Middle School.

And then High School.

And they absolutely devoured me.

They pulled my pigtails.

They took my glasses.

They poked my tummy, and pulled at my arm hair.

They exposed me.

They ridiculed me.

They took complete advantage of any “sweet thing” I was.

They spit me out.

Suffering in public school taught me many things:

Lesson Number One:

Looks are everything.

Show some skin, and they’ll tell you how beautiful you are.

You’re so beautiful that they’ll just HAVE to send it to their friends too.

Lesson Number Two:

Put out. 

It’s the only way he’ll love you.

But once word gets out, and it WILL get out, then you’re a slut.

Lesson Number Three:

Don’t make any mistakes.

This is literally impossible. And you will make every mistake.

And your friends’ parents will tell them that you’re a bad influence.

And then you’ll eat lunch in the hallway. On the floor. Alone.

Lesson Number Four:

It isn’t ladylike to stick up for yourself.

They’ll penalize you for it.

You talk back, you stand your ground, and then you become a bitch.

And nobody liked me when I became bitter.

But I was tired of it, so I turned dark and disgusting so that nobody would chew on me anymore.

I became a shell.

I was empty,

Cold,

And insecure.

I learned to hate everything.

I didn’t have anybody’s hand to hold.

I refused to lean on anyone.

And then I moved away.

I spent time by myself, 

On my own,

And I had to relearn everything.

Lesson Number One:

Be nice to everyone, but befriend a very few.

There are snakes everywhere.

Trust carefully. 

Lesson Number Two:

Nobody is entitled to your body, except you.

They cannot touch you.

They do not own you.

Lesson Number Three:

Own your mistakes.

You’re going to make new mistakes all the time.

Just accept them, learn from them, and keep going. 

Lesson Number Four:

There is a time and a place for everything.

You can’t be a bitch to your boss,

But you CAN be a bitch to a guy in the dining hall that is making your roommate uncomfortable.

I have suffered and I have healed.

I have learned the power of my curves,

I have learned the power of my words,

And I continue to reteach myself how to be strong, every day.

I am smarter.

I am tougher.

I am sweeter.

I am better.

I still hurt.

I am still in pain.

But I am no longer bitter.

I am kind.

I am empathetic.

And because of all the shit you have put me through, I am independent.

I’d love to hold your hand, but I don’t need to.

I can go off on my own.

I don’t need you to show me how, nor do I want you to.

But don’t hold it against me if I regress,

or if I need some affection.

I am a woman.

And you’ll never understand that.

I have endured so much,

And I have grown up a lot – 

But I am still a little girl on the inside.

• cofc
• poem
• wellness