I tell my students, ‘When you get these jobs that you have been so brilliantly trained for, just remember that your real job is that if you are free, you need to free somebody else. If you have some power, then your job is to empower somebody else. This is not just a grab-bag candy game.
i know girls who are trying to fit into the social norm like squeezing into last year’s prom dress i know girls who are low rise, mac eyeshadow, and binge drinking i know girls that wonder if they’re disaster and sexy enough to fit in i know girls who are fleeing bombs from the mosques of their skin playing russian roulette with death; it’s never easy to accept that our bodies are fallible and flawed but when do we draw the line? when the knife hits the skin? isn’t it the same thing as purging, because we’re so obsessed with death, some women just have more guts than others the funny thing is women like us don’t shoot we swallow pills, still wanting to be beautiful at the morgue, still proceeding to put on make-up, still hoping that the mortician finds us fuckable and attractive we might as well be buried with our shoes, and handbags and scarves, girls we flirt with death everytime we etch a new tally mark into our skin i know how to split my wrists like a battlefield too but the time has come for us to reclaim our bodies our bodies deserve more than to be war-torn and collateral, offering this fuckdom as a pathetic means to say, “i only know how to exist when i’m wanted” girls like us are hardly ever wanted you know we’re used up and sad and drunk and perpetually waiting by the phone for someone to pick up and tell us that we did good You did good. ( i know i am because i said am, my body is home) so try this take your hands over your bumpy lovebody naked and remember the first time you touched someone with the sole purpose of learning all of them touched them because the light was pretty on them and the dust in the sunlight danced the way your heart did touch yourself with a purpose your body is the most beautiful royal fathers and uncles are not claiming your knife anymore are not your razor, no put the sharpness back lay your hands flat and feel the surface of scarred skin i once touched a tree with charred limbs the stump was still breathing but the tops were just ashy remains, i wonder what it’s like to come back from that sometimes i feel a forest fire erupting from my wrists and the smoke signals sent out are the most beautiful things i’ve ever seen love your body the way your mother loved your baby feet and brother, arm wrapping shoulders, and remember, this is important: you are worth more than who you fuck you are worth more than a waistline you are worth more than any naked body could proclaim in the shadows, more than a man’s whim or your father’s mistake you are no less valuable as a size 16, than a size 4 you are no less valuable as a 32A than a 36C, your sexiness is defined by concentric circles within your wood; wisdom you are a goddamn tree stump with leaves sprouting out: reborn
Listened to this a few weeks ago, liked it, and forgot about it. Today I randomly remembered it and searched through everything to find it. It’s been on replay since - unbelievably powerful song & so full of passion and strength.
If you’re feeling frightened about what comes next, don’t be. Embrace the uncertainty. Allow it to lead you places. Be brave as it challenges you to exercise both your heart and your mind as you create your own path towards happiness, don’t waste time with regret. Spin wildly into your next action. Enjoy the present, each moment, as it comes; because you’ll never get another one quite like it. And if you should ever look up and find yourself lost, simply take a breath and start over. Retrace your steps and go back to the purest place in your heart… where your hope lives. You’ll find your way again.