Young woman, you may not want to hear about my experiences
Growing up lesbian
You may say, “we don’t need your story old woman, we have our own
This is our time, step back into histories cupboard
We don’t need feminists or battle cries, we’ve won our spot.”
I hope you don’t
I hope you want to learn from those who walked before you
Even as I’m not old enough to be your mother
Just as I learned from those before me
Otherwise, our molten souls only purpose in life
Is to shed our skin like the dying cicada and rustle
Music from our short vibration, even as that
Vibration can string legacies with each generation
If we would only listen and not sprint into the future, heedless
So, listen, please
Hear my story as I paint it with the lines on my palm
The stretchmarks of my years, intersecting yours
I was once younger than you, not so very long ago
Long enough it felt like a different world
A world where my friends at school derided lesbians
As those girls no boy would kiss, the unwanted
Lumping all undesired traits together like a toxic stew
The unkindness of this, left me a coward, a mute
I never told them I had feelings for my second-grade teacher
When she permed her long hair and became a pre-Raphaelite
Nor did I reveal my burgeoning feelings for other girls
For fear of being singled out in gym class as a pervert
As if all my rights of equality, were banished with that one word; lesbian
My generation had it easy compared to the past
Where women were beaten, raped, tortured for loving each other
What you may not know young woman, is this still happens
In 70 percent of the world, in your neighborhood and in mine
We forget sometimes when we have the luxury of forgetting, when we
Have children with our same sex partner, go to schools
That will not torment those children, marry and possess rights
To avoid losing our homes, our security, our sanity
But it wasn’t so long ago, and it’s always omnipresent
A THREAT– we shouldn’t presume our rights are sacrosanct
Nothing about a woman is protected in perpetuity
Each generation must play their part or they will pay
Eventually I grew courageous and came out
Though the toxicity of the lesbian world terrified me
How women who loved women would as often destroy
One another in the confusion of unscripted lives under
Duress, so much eroded before it had a chance to
Flourish, women dressing as men to claim identities, aborting
Their own, shamed, mocked, ridiculed, turning on
Each other like a snake eating its tail, loses focus
If I had a choice back then, I would’ve been heterosexual
Avoided all the pain, the cruelty, the power lesbians
Who came demanding potential girlfriends worked out daily
Earn a six -digit salary before they would consider dating
All the loss of innocence in those subscribed roles
I fell out of love with women, with being a lesbian
But it ran in my blood like a rose with permanent thorns
Twisting my arm toward the thin wrist of girls
Until eventually I fell for a woman
unafraid to be a woman, unafraid to love me
Then it all clicked into place, years fell away
But we suffered under the yoke of inequity
Hiding for years illegal, unable to gain equality
Sinking into poverty, losing chances, children, hope
Until the lines on my face weren’t metaphorical, they were
The clay hands of time pulling me into the river
And drowning there, I fought to rise and find a way
Though it felt like drowning would be such a relief
Whomever says love is all you need, has forgotten the
Need for a roof, a meal, the feeling of safety, sanity
When I see you now with your legalized marriages
Your children and houses and careers that don’t fire
You for who you are, I am glad, I am truly glad, there is
No bitterness just hope that you know, it was less than a
Generation ago things were so different, we desperately
Wished to speed into the future, become you with your
Freedoms, which should never be taken for granted
The past isn’t ancient, it may be just over your shoulder
I suggest you reach back, once in a while and touch
Its tired skin, for that skin may one day be yours
And we only make sense when we stand together
A chain throughout history, shoring up against flood
Standing strong, linking arms, saying now is the time
We claim the past, present and future. Young woman
I want to be proud of you. Young woman I want your
Children to be one step closer. Speak up.
I absolutely love this for all its truth and glory and testimony. This is flawless, Candice. Thank you so much for sharing.
As far back as we have records we have warnings spoken, written, sung of the price of being ignorant of history. And as numerous legislatures continue to prove, no freedom, no right once won is set safe in perpetuity, or even to next week.
Such a profound reflection. I like the wistfulness evoked by those now more accepted. Unfortunately, in all aspects of life, we just don’t learn from those who have gone before.
“Nothing about a woman is protected in perpetuity” is a line for the ages, sadly. A call to arms and reinforcements…
YES! No one should have to hide themselves, ever! Great piece once again, Candy!! <3
It means a lot that you thought this profound. It’s one of my rant poems which I think is the ‘real’ me in that it’s what I really feel about issues like equity and equality. I guess we should always have those passions and never feel it isn’t our time anymore to speak up.
Sorry I was sick again – urgh- thank you so much for reading and saying this – you spur me on to not give up on writing – and so much besides. THANK YOU so much dearest Tre
💜🖤💙