It’s a girl!

The first words heard in the world

A news so joyous

Could be so deadly.

How? 

How can being a girl be deadly?

I ask myself the same question

Waiting for a reply.

Nothing. 

Not even the crickets have anything to say.

In first grade I was the only girl invited to an all boys’ birthday party.

As a joke.

When I said no I still remember the laughter of his friends as he said

“Good. We would have jumped you on the trampoline anyways.”

Seven. I was seven.

Coming home upset and angry. Telling trusted adults.

What advice do I get back?

“He probably has a crush on you.”

Mom says. 

“He’s just joking!” My teacher laughs.

“Boys will be boys.”

That’s what we’re raised on.

Growing up doesn’t get any easier.

“Ew you have hair on your legs!” a boy shouts at me

“So do you?” I question him.

“Yeah but girls can’t have leg hair!”

Then why do we grow it? 

“Dress like a girl”

“Slut!”

“You're asking for it!”

“You need to pluck your eyebrows”

“Smile more!”

“Why do your teeth look like that?”

“I have bigger boobs than you!”

“Your laugh is ugly”

Existing was already hard enough.

“I like girls.”

My parents freeze.

My mentors have wide eyes.

I finally came to terms with myself.

I was happy for once and-

“That's not how love works.”

They chuckled.

If that’s not how love works, then how does it go then?

Am I supposed to create a false reality that I love someone I don’t?

Do I subject myself to societal norms in order to be seen as human?

Do I live happy as an outcast, or miserable as a human?

“Can I watch?”

“I can change that…”

“That’s hot!” 

“You’re a waste of a woman.”

Why can’t I be who I am?

Not even 16 years of life and somehow I’m a survivor of harassment and assault?

All the things said to me from boys my age. Men four times my age. Women with inner misogyny. 

I will believe in a world of justice when I’m seen as a person.

Not my body.