My Bleeding Body

Yesterday, I dressed in white.  

I dressed brightly.  I covered in my body in the color best able to reflect light.

I wore the color of strong women who demanded the right to vote for people with bodies like mine.

I know the risks of being proud of my body... because I am a woman.  

Can you hear me?

I know the risk of reflecting light off the shape of my thighs because I am a woman…. and my thighs have been touched without my permission.

I have been sexually harassed in dresses and baggy jeans and sweatshirts.

I’ve been disrespected with short hair and with long hair.

My face has been criticized with makeup and without.  

I’ve been too skinny and too fat.

Too loud and too quiet.

It’s too much.

It’s too little.

Don’t sit that way.  It’s not feminine.

Don’t talk that way.  It’s not feminine.

Don’t cross your legs.  People won’t take you seriously.

Don’t wear too much makeup.  People won’t take you seriously.

Keep your body covered or people won’t take you seriously.

Yesterday my body cramped.  I fed it and drank tea and still the twisting in my side told me something the news anchors seemed reluctant to admit.  

Yesterday my body cried because it needed healing.

Today my body is tired.  

Today my body shakes with caffeine and fear.

Today my body is one to be grabbed at and judged.

Today my body is one to be discarded with age or boredom.

Today my body is one to be controlled by law.

Today my body is an object.

Tonight I wear black because this body is grieving.  

Tonight I wear a collar denied to bodies like mine for centuries and in other sanctuaries across town.  Every woman in this room knows that there are still people who don’t want us to wield power or influence.

Tonight I wear the color that absorbs light and warmth.  Because this body needs healing.  But I know that this body, capable of creating and carrying life, can heal itself.

Tonight I wear the uniform of service because this body knows how to endure pain and sacrifice for love.  This body knows how to heal itself after being torn apart.  

Tonight I wear black because I am a woman and I claim all of the grief and power that comes with that today.