28 Oct “To my future daughter” a poem by Ann-Bernice Thomas

[Author’s note: This poem has call and response written in. Anything repeated in italics is for you to respond.]

 

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To my Future Daughter:

I never thought it would be this hard.

Being woman,

Being Black,

Being queer

Somehow, I thought it would be easy.

And I tell you this not as a warning,

but as preparation for your calling out into the world,

because you will be called out into this world,

it made you,

and it wants you,

daughter,

I am so happy you made it this far.

That you found ‘daughter’

whether you started as ‘son’

or belonging to someone else

honey, you are mine now and

I love you.

You,

and that unstoppable spirit,

you are the only one who can pause it,

never say yes,

rest,

close your eyes

because you deserve it

but eyes were made to open again

so open them wide

and learn what your world looks like,

it will always change.

For the better I hope,

you will always change.

For the better I hope

I know I did.

And I’m only 19 when writing this,

still a kid,

almost woman,

but 11 – 19, where the most transformative years of my life.

I learned so much.

And there’s no way for me to properly prepare you,

only help instill principles in you

of love

and self-esteem

you are worth too much for me to even explain.

And you’re becoming a woman now—

always—

probably wondering what that really means.

To me,

being woman is something indescribable,

a tingling in the toes of your soul

that says

“I AM WOMAN”

I AM WOMAN

I AM HERE

I AM HERE

AND I AM PROUD

I AM PROUD.

It’s a strength

in the base of your throat,

a voice you didn’t know you had,

a hug

with steady hands on unsteady feet

sometimes woman,

is falling.

But woman is most definitely getting back up,

being woman,

is learning.

Everything.

And probably getting it wrong the first time.

Woman is:

DON’T GIVE UP.

DON’T GIVE UP.

I WON’T GIVE UP

I WON’T GIVE UP

Woman is helping everyone,

it’s

checking even your enemy’s pants for blood leakage if they ask

and they will ask—

and doing it even if they don’t,

Being woman

is holding grudges

and letting them go

it’s learning forgiveness

and acting on forgiveness

for them, and yourself

it’s

Screaming,

I LOVE MYSELF

I LOVE MYSELF

Off of rooftops in your heart,

it’s crying

trying to hold it in,

and letting it out anyway—

I have just started calling myself wild woman.

Because some days,

woman feels so constraining.

Sounds like

“You don’t look that strong.”

“Don’t go out at night,”

“I wouldn’t wear that if I were you.”

It’s,

“if you’re drunk it’s your fault,”

“your body hair is too long”

“you’re too fat, too ugly, too pretty, too short, too tall,”

“girls aren’t smart,”

“girls don’t like sports”

It’s

howling:

HOOOWWWWWWWWWLLLLLL

Because some days,

enough is enough.

And all the words become nonsense.

Woman turns into nonsense

and nothing will matter at all.

We can’t stop the journey here.

It is enticing.

But woman is

DON’T GIVE UP

DON’T GIVE UP

So let the wildness break free.

Woman was born free of chains

and does not need to grow into them,

I am still cutting mine loose.

I do not know what future me is still in the process of unlearning.

But right now,

I wish I was thinner.

Prettier.

A little easier to love,

I take up a lot of space.

And I won’t apologize for that

but sometimes, accepting all of what I am is…hard.

And that’s okay.

Because woman is growing, always.

It never stops.

It’s hard.

But it is the most wonderful thing I have ever done.

So daughter,

daughters,

I leave you with this,

repeat after me:

I am a Wild Girl.

I am not perfect.

I never will be.

I can only be, the truest me.

I am loved.

I am Capable.

And I am not afraid to stand up for myself,

and

HOOOOOWWWWWWLLLLL

At the moon.