An Audacious Survivor

At 3
They called me pretty
Soft, gentle, small
Loved and sheltered
Well mannered. I had to be

Too loud at 6
Tone down, stay fragile, now
By 13, I was perfect
You see, I grew up "like a lady"

Wanting for nothing
But space that could be my own

At 16
I had grown into someone who learned silence was a gift
That ran in my family

At 18
I had to be thankful for not being one of those girls
Who was killed or raped or hurt too early
No, I got these eggs in my basket as an adult
When I could "handle it"
When I was "mature"
When I knew, that this was the way of the world
You had sheltered me from, so carefully
That as a woman, this had to be my reality

At 21
I became the silence on these lips
When you touched me, unwantingly
At 25
I carry shame on my body
That you should be wearing
But comes from what I'm wearing instead
The guilt in the eyes of women before me
That say nothing, that do not do
But look down and say "you too?"

At 30
Enough
It's been enough
I've had, enough

At 3
I wish someone had told me
That its never too late
And its never too early
At 30
I'm coming out to find me
I am the voice
That is no longer afraid to demand
What is mine
I am the answer
That does not hesitate to ask