I have been thinking, why do genie’s only give you three wishes? Is there a lore behind this phenomenon? Doesn’t three just seem like such an odd number? Literally! Why not four or you know, a hundred wishes. I’d love to get a hundred wishes. Wait, why can’t I wish for more wishes anyway? This stuff doesn’t even make sense.
Ugh!
I won’t even lie, I just know that I would fumble those three wishes. Fumble baadd! There are so many things to wish for; Supply of free Oreo’s for life, world peace, money, a house in the French countryside, to go back in time for a front row, VIP seat at a Michael Jackson concert, a cure for cancer, superpowers… The list is endless. I definitely have my priorities straight.
What about you, what would you wish for?
You know, sometimes I look at the mirror and have no clue what the fuck is happening. It feels like I’m staring at a black hole. Its actually quite similar to trying to understand abstract art. Anyway, when that body dismorphia hits, I’m attacked with the fact that the only way a thousand ships would be launched in my honor, would be to put me down for being such an eyesore to humanity.
Sometimes though, it feels like I’m looking at myself through a lovers eyes. Like I’m meeting an old friend. I see everything good. You know that Taylor swift song? Yeah, I’m definitely enchanted to meet me. Man, I miss those days! Look I am a pretty girl, I just don’t always believe it! In this perpetual war with the self, I wonder who will emerge victorious… Me or…me!
Does ‘The Art of War‘ have a chapter on that?
Sometimes, if my self perception were an animal, it would be a chameleon. I am a terrible communicator, constantly doubt my potential, and have an existential crisis every Five business days. Hi, my name is ‘a work in progress! Still, I might have a few issues here and there but God bestowed upon me a pretty face and a curious spirit, but with a terrible memory.
Besides, Curiosity might have killed the cat but we all know those bitches have seven life’s right? Let me ask, Have you ever seen turtles fornicating? I haven’t, but shit am I curious. I’ve always just assumed that they spawn out of thin air. Oh, how wrong I was. The technicalities of such are above my comprehension because, there is simply no way… No way!
Okay, maybe I do need a new brain. Surely, it can’t be this same one that I’ll use to work on the future that’s supposedly in my hands. I’m just a girl… A clumsy one at that! That thought right there makes me want to hurl myself through a wall but alas, my name is not Casper! My future might be rapidly cascading into a pit of oblivion, but I have at least three things worth living for: The Shrek movies, frequent naps and potatoes!
You know, after me, God really snapped when he made potatoes. You can fry ’em, boil ’em, steam ’em… They are so versatile. And they have more range than your favorite actor! Anyone who thinks otherwise needs an exorcism. You know what its giving Bethany? Its giving tabia za ibilisi. Get right with Jesus! These are probably the same demons who say, “just book the flight”. Oh well…okay Camille! And how exactly am I supposed to pay for that, mhm? With my tears?
If you’re like that, then watch your mouth before you turn into a pillar of salt!
Moving on…
Oh, to be woman! Born to please man, yet suffer the self. A moment of silence. for the bull, the shit, and the crap!
Let’s just pretend that, that was deep and profound and I just gave you the the most thought provoking poem you’ve ever read, okay? You’re welcome by the way. You know, art is such a beautiful form of expression. Art is everywhere. Its with us and within us. Look at me for instance, I am a literal work of art. Listen, if I had existed in Da Vinci’s time, I would have been the Mona Lisa. No, Shakespeare would have written tear inducing, literal pieces about me. Scratch that, my face could launch a thousand ships.
Too much? Okay.
Gosh, its so hard being a woman. The entire concept of womanhood is such a complex experience. Imagine this; We suffer menstrual pain for millennia yet nobody has managed to find a cure. The older I get the worse it becomes. I take it as my uterus trying to remind me of the ticking time bomb that is my biological clock. Like, if you don’t hurry up and put me to use, I will shrivel up and doom you to an eternity of childlessness. Honestly the stem girls need to take one for the team and invent something. Or maybe we should leave it to the fan fiction girlies. Seriously, tell them that they’ll never read a dramione fanfic unless they find the cure for period pains and we’ll have that pill by 11:49pm.
For the longest time, my idea of womanhood was shaped by the experiences of the women in my life. Their struggles, sacrifices and pain defined what was a real woman for me. We really were brought up romanticizing suffering! Every once in a while, my grandmother and mother indulge us a little bit into their lore and I’m in awe at the women that they are. The fact that they never got a childhood during their childhood, and the things they went through, survived and overcame just for a better life… Awe!
In my journey of self actualization, I’ve realized that I don’t want to inherit the silence of those that came before me. I’ve realized that in more ways than one, they had to( and still do) deny their experiences, swallow the pain and suppress their emotions. They had to fit into a bubble. A suffocating bubble!
As someone who has always dreamed a little too big, I’ve always battled with the notions of what society modeled for me, and my believe that there is more than one way to exist as a woman. This period has really blessed me with a lot of shifting perspectives and a part of me will forever be grateful for the darkness. I’ve uncovered the parts that I hide from myself. And in stead of erasing my history, I’ve decided to face it head on. My fears, my pain, my shortcomings, my story!
Embrace the darkness because that’s where we learn… Or get institutionalized!!
I don’t know if its just here in the village, but some of these patterns are quite prevalent and I’ve watched how adversely they affect girls and women. Be it early marriage, domestic violence, early pregnancies, poverty, or even not being as good in the traditional forms of educations. Sometimes, even unconsciously, we find ourselves shoved head first into those aforementioned bubbles.
Regardless, I strongly believe that our circumstances do not define us. As women, its important for us to acknowledge that hardship is not part of our identity. Its okay to want more. Its okay to dream. Its okay to be strong. Its okay to to be vulnerable. Its okay to be silly. Its okay to be overwhelmed by life. Its Okay to be confident. Its okay to be happy. Its okay to be hopeful. Its okay to be everything.
Dear woman, Its okay to not fit into society’s image of perfection.
I miss when I was not this aware of life. Then again, has there ever been a moment when I wasn’t? Maybe its that undiagnosed ‘tism‘ part of my brain that’s always been so overtly sensitive to what others can tune out. Its not easy to rewire your own brain.
It feels impossible but I’m only 23, I can live in the moment. I’m only 23, Life doesn’t have to feel so terrible. I’m only 23, I can be happy. I’m only 23, things will get better. I’m only 23 and the only way forward is delusion. Yeah I’m fucked!
DIARY OF A VILLAGE GIRL 