The mythology behind being female

The Mythology behind being female:

Emily Sturgill

Thursday, March 26, 2015

The Mythology behind being female:

We are taught from the time

we are very little that what matters most

is how you look on the outside

not how you really feel.

Are you pretty enough?

No, well then we have lots of stuff

let’s add some eyeliner, lipstick and a bit of blush.

Do not dress like a tomboy or wear your sweatpants

outside the house.

Do not forget to paste a smile and pretend it’s all better

because all those teardrops darling

will turn to rust

because it’s the outside the matters most

it’s the pastel shingles on your exterior house

do not show them your true colors

don’t display fear like a mouse

don’t throw tantrums like children do

it’s unbecoming beneath the beauty

of you.

The Mythology behind being female:

Do not forget to paste a smile and pretend it’s all better

because all those teardrops darling

will turn to rust.

The mythology of being female

suggests a magical facade, and a white picket fence.

Girls should never get angry, defensive or dirty.

Girls should always play nice.

But sometimes the wildness in me

unleashes a feminist and I feel

like my exterior has cracks, my mascara runs, I get angry

I cry easily, I put on those ugly sweatpants

and I refuse to act lady like.

I embrace all my curves, the ones I was “taught”

are called ugly or fat.

The Mythology behind being female:

Sometimes despite the Mythology of being Female

I get annoyed, I get outraged, and I fight back.

against all the stereotypes that say

I should always put others first.

I should always play nice.

I should look pretty

and put a smile of my face.

because sometimes even when

I am trying to blend in

even when I am attempting to be

the ideal perfect version of me?

sometimes I just do not care at all.

 

Do not forget to paste a smile and pretend it’s all better

because all those teardrops darling

will turn to rust, then what comes next?

Nobody likes hanging out with a hurricane.

Nobody enjoys an un-lady like version

of crass, profane, selfish, uncompassionate

messy looking, emotional lunacy

a loud version of profanity

and ultimately a vulgar shadow

of a hysterical woman

this collides with the Mythology of being

female.

 

the Monster of me

the Monster of me-

12/27/14

by Emily Sturgill

the Monster of me-

you cannot see

from the outside, but,

on the inside

there is a Monster of me.

deep inside a divided mind-

there is a Monster of me

It’s ugly, and messy,

It’s broken, jagged, sharpen edges

with rotted teeth

with the violet violence of despair.

Deep down inside me,

lies horrible truths, like Anger, Depression, Sadness and Fear.

it eats away at me from the inside out.

leaving nothing but

this empty shell

of a young looking pretty

40 something, crazy cat-lady,

bag lady, bag lady, i’ve been there before.

the Monster of me

is what you cannot see.

I appear normal enough

but i am raw to the touch.

and the tears just flow

like a faucet with way too much

draino.

I can appear to be

almost anything. Confident, witty or artsy-

or quiet and shy,

but deep down inside

an unraveling mind,

lies the Truth

I am mentally ill.

I am dangerous

I am to be feared

and never understood.

I am just another anonymous Statistic

I am just another runaway lunatic

I am just another victim

of my own unhinged mind.

I live with bipolar disorder

and that feels like a Crime.

the Monster of me

i keep her chained to the bed

on a dirty mattress

She’s the darkest deepest secret

the Horror in my head.