I Am Not

I am not:

a helpless lamb.

a damsel in distress.

a glorified baby receptacle.

a little flower incapable of thought.

I am a philosopher, a scientist,

an artist both in the visual

and auditory realms, a chef,

an athlete, a gardener, an

environmentalist, a scholar. I can lift heavy things. When you showed me where the

toaster was today, why did you

feel the need to finish all

your sentences with “sweetie;”

why did you repeatedly assume

I’d burn myself?

Was it because I was wearing

a dress? Did that swath of fabric

indicate to you that I was

a lesser human being? Does what I have between

my legs alter your perception

of my intelligence and

abilities? And you, on your bully pulpit.

When will you stop using

religion as a guise for

the guilt and shame you

spew onto me? Where would you be without

your scare tactics? I am NOT a stupid, helpless

“child,” and I

don’t need you and your self-righteous

army to “save” me. How dare you try to tell

me what I can and can’t

do with MY body. I am:

a human being.

capable of my OWN decisions,

thank you very much. I can assure you that another

X chromosome hasn’t left

me mentally or physically

enfeebled.