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The balancing act

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She is expected to do it all, yet fit inside some archaic constrains.
She cries out in frustration, yet silenced.
She struggles, yet undeterred.
She demands empowerment, yet in the same breath gets put down.
She has rights, yet is bullied into submission.
She is expected to be perfect, yet the goals for perfection keep changing.
They tell her to be strong, yet when she is they tell her to be meek.

They dictate to her, demand from her.
They want all the control, no negotiations.
You should be happy with what you earn they say, even when it is significantly less than she should be paid.
Spend time with your children they say. Yet she works more than 14 hours on the job per day.
Stay at home they say be a housewife they say.
There is no work at home they say.
Yet pay your bills they say.
Frustration overload.

Count all the pennies, they say.
But don’t be pound foolish she says.
They laugh.
She is just the mother of the child they say.
“Just” she screams “Just”
Why do we allow such belittling comments?

Is she married they ask,
to whom they ask,
and why they ask?

Give us your life history they ask,
Give us your ancestors names they ask,
Yet they give nothing in return except whispers and rumors behind your back.
She is conditioned to doubt herself.
Resistance is futile they say.
Let it gnaw inside you till you cocoon yourself from self -doubt.
Wrapped up away from the World, away from anything, away from everything, Away from judgments, away.
Peering through as the World races by, pinning, hoping.
Oh the frustrations of a Woman.

They would love it, for you to deal with such inner turmoil.
That you never see daylight again, to feel secure to embrace everything that makes you an individual
After all who are they?
You’re awesome spread your wings.

 

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