Mama said that you that I'm your angel, your favorite sarcastic, your baby.
What happened to those thoughts when you open your mouth.
"you look like a wreck in that outfit"
"everyone will think you are dressed like a man."
But why should I care?
Why should what they think matter?
Cause nothing hurts me more than to hear you point out that my thighs have gotten fatter or my stomach sticks out too much in that shirt or that my ears stick out from underneath my hat.
I'm either your beautiful angel of a daughter or that tomboy disappointment.
But when I oppose you tell me "oh child of mine, you need to just calm down and listen.
You're just a little too rough, a little too tough, you need to smile more, be more friendly. But not too much because then you'll look like a whore.
You need to wear more things to make you look like a girl and not like a boyish freak."
I either eat too much or not enough
I'm either too thin or too thick, too fat or too skinny
But Mamma, why can't you hear me?
I have my own body, the body that you passed down to me,
so how can you shame me like that?
These long fingers, this straight, flat hair, this pale skin, you're the one that blessed these gifts upon me.
So how can you say the ugly things that you do about my body?
These questions are not out of spite for you neither contempt or disdain. I just wish that you would take the time to contemplate the words you are always saying because I can't spend another day listening to your internalized hate.
For years and years I've tried not to let it bother me but i can't anymore because women need to learn to live in harmony.
Divide and conquer. That's how they keep us down. That's how they hold us back. They make you feel shameful for the skin that you're in, and see to it that we pass it on to the next of kin
But that's gotta stop mama.
We can't be about that life anymore.
I just want to love my body, blank, and know that you won't see me as just another (tomboy)
That you'll still be able to think of me positively.
That you'll be able to see me for more than just, my body.
Mama. you say that I'm a pretty girl, I'm your angel, your baby, your star, your world
But if this is true mama, if this is fact,
I need you to stop saying the hurtful things you say to me
I need you to have my back
I need you to be there for everything,
with positive comments not comments to stab me in the back
I need you.
