My letter to your shamer :-
You painted my mirror black, and then told me that i was never meant to be reflected.
Well, Do you know that the rays behind the mirror wanted to intersect ?
And when they did, you painted my image black too.
but before, you call it a silhouette,
tell me, are your pages of tomorrow filled with a poem about yesterday, too?
every night had a new song like the morning sun who rose with a new tune
and i lay there on my bed, drowning in my own thoughts, while they sing in my ears,
"this, is just a metaphor"
"time, is just a metaphor"
"i, am just a metaphor"
"they, are just my friends, trying to make me laugh, trying to lift my mood with a joke .... about my own body?!"
tell me, do you feel this way, too?
If you look deep into me, you'll find long speeches hanging off my throat,
with it's one end sitting on my tongue, ready to be slammed on your second joke,
while the other end, holding itself back.
and i wonder, why i choke;
every time I open my mouth, Hoping that these tirades would march their way out,
But I end up laughing with the crowd at your affronting lines, like a circus monkey, who's forced to smile.
Tell me, do you choke too?
I take 3 hours to get ready
And that's a total of 180 minutes, but there's no laugh behind it.
100 minutes of standing in front of the mirror with my favorite dress and staring at it, wondering, if it's revealing my hysteria or if it's hiding my dysphoria.
Another 30 minutes are spent in convincing myself that I can pull this off!
1) This is my dress,
2) I chose it,
3) I can wear it...
.. If only I had an inch thicker calves, a size double breasts, a more rounder face and a more curvy waist.
The left 40 minutes go by accusing myself for not having the perfect #body or for not having
an inch thicker calves, a size double breasts, a more rounder face and a more curvy waist.
And The final 10 minutes go by picking up another dress, painting a bright smile on my face and walking out.
3 hours, everyday for 13 months.
Tell me, have you spent them like this too?
I am struck with how your words are capable of crawling Into my four walls, giving me a feel of your presence; everytime I breath.
You are no less than a Darth Vader to me, I have seen streets change into deathly corridors when you are standing on the end of it; to avoid you, I locked myself in the topmost chamber that a man could've ever seen.
See, princess Fiona and I could've been friends but she left her chamber, way before me, while I was structuring out a perfect letter for you because,
Writing to you will never be easy or, should i say that it has never been easy,
but dear Bodyshamer.
it's time we open up the stitches that are binding thousands of lips out there.
it's time we take personalities before bodies and not put them both on measuring scales.
It's time we understand that its not only you who's supposed to stand on the culprits coloumn, I should be there too.
It's time we break all the chains that are holding us back because no body is too thin or too fat, no skin is too dark or too light and no one can be tied under these labels, it's time we tell ourselves that we are perfect as we are, misfits, distinct, unique and proud.
it's time we join hands together and break the #mirror#yqbaba#yourquote#boldquote#bodyshaming#letter#poetry
(Ps. It's a spoken word poem,
It's essence lies in the performer's hand)
Girls don't just don't simply decides to hate their bodies, we teach them to!
Stop #bodyshaming, you might find it fun in making fun of girls with skinny body or overweight but you are actually ruining them.
And all this bodyshaming starts from our own home.
So please #behuman#bekind and stop making fun of girls, no one's perfect but whatever we are, we are enough.