By Samaria Rountree, Virginia State University
He says, you’re so pretty and delicate, like a daisy or a tulip. He says, you shouldn’t have to pick this up if it weighs too much. He doesn’t want you to hurt yourself. He says you shouldn’t work there; it isn’t fitting for you. He says, maybe try a bakery or a daycare. He’s sure it would be more appropriate for you. He wants you to behave, like a child on their first day of school. He says that’s the only way people will like you. He says that he knows best because he is he, he is a him, and you... well, you are only she. You are just a her. He says you wouldn’t know; you wouldn’t understand. He says trust him, even Jesus was a man.
So, you do. You keep your legs smooth and crossed. Your hair falls to your waist and your skin is polished amber. You sip your tea as if you’re always drinking through a straw and, you only take pea sized bites of anything you eat, no matter how hungry you are. You laugh gently enough to hear only if you were listening for it, and you always keep a smile no matter how bad you may feel. You always listen and wait for your turn to speak, although, it may never come.
He loves the praise he gets from having a trophy like you. He says you’re such a lady.
You love him, but you question whether you love him enough to sacrifice you, the real you. Then you realize, you like your hair better when its cut blunt, barely past your neck. You
like to lift boxes and barrels just because you know you can. You like burgers, fries, and a bunch of ketchup. I mean, you could honestly eat a whole sub in one bite. You like to read and write. You enjoy math and science. You are quite witty and enjoy a good debate. You believe it stimulates the mind. You yearn for knowledge; you know that knowledge is power, and you want to be a goddess. You don’t even like tea, but you do enjoy a cold glass a sugary sweet lemonade. You still like your nails to be painted pink, because pink is just simply the perfect color, how could you ever change it. You like to watch crime, horror and gore. You don’t care much for romance. You listen and wait for your turn to speak, but only because you have manners. If they won't give you your turn, you take it. You demand. You command.
He sees that you have changed. He doesn’t like it. He wants you to listen to him and do what he says. He wants you to be subservient. He says you’re not decent, and he doesn’t want you anymore. He says you’re too much trouble, and no good man would like that. He says that you are too wild and that you aren’t lady like.
You say that this is okay. You say that if a man can’t handle a strong woman, then he is a no-good man. You tell him that he is a him and that hes will always come from shes. You say he wouldn’t understand, because he is a man. You tell him to trust you, even Jesus came from a woman.
You are strong, yet you are still, such a lady.