I am not stupid, I am not weak, I am not too small, I am not incapable.
I will not judge you, and you will not judge me and together we will learn to default with understanding rather than judgement. The brain is powerful and malleable and every time I return to Bowling Green I glimpse some different ways my own brain may have been influenced while it was forming, growing, changing.
Every time I come home I am called stupid, small, weak, ugly; my point of view is scoffed at and invalidated; if there are two men (boys) sinking their teeth into a political or cultural discussion I tune out as a reflex as my opinion has never carried much weight before; nearly every one of my male friendships from Bowling Green have involved some sort of sexual tension at one point or another and I've watched many of my girl friends who are much less willing to give into sexual pressures struggle to maintain the same level of relationships with those same male friends.
Right off the bat, you probably won't believe these things are true (invalidating my point of view?) especially if you are a male, but I can assure you of their validity.
Where did that voice come from if none of this were true, that voice that tells me "you can't do this, you don't belong here, you're not made for this, you are too small and weak" at the boxing gym? It isn't my own voice, I was not born insecure and my parents loved me and never once told me I wasn't capable (except, perhaps, when my father told me I probably wasn't good at math because it was in our genes... I am inclined to believe him ;p ).
Why is it that, at Hendrix, when my friends, male or female, and I enter into debates, I still have that voice in my head that utters "what you are thinking of saying right now is useless and you really don't know enough to participate in this conversation" even when every time I do manage to speak up in debates my friends listen, respond and play off of my opinions?
How come at Hendrix, where my shyness takes over and my lack of sexual drive keeps me from interacting with men as I used to, I have trouble making male friendships? The ones I have made are much less skewed and awkward than those previous, which is fantastic but they're difficult for me to forge. And then when I return to Bowling Green, my male friends want to kiss me, to touch me, all sorts of interactions that I used to view as proof of my self-worth.
I do not blame you, I do not blame me although we each had a hand in it. Things are so comfortable here, so blind, so subtle. You laugh and say I'm stupid and I laugh with you, say I am. You're joking but you do it every day. And everyday for 12 years... wires in my brain are forming around those constants.
Mine is one experience, mine is a girl's view, mine is mine, and I am worthy. So hear me out:
I can chase down my friends and tackle them to the ground.
I can throw a good punch when my stance is correct.
I can sing with good pitch and dance with good passion.
I can make bowls and cups that one can eat and drink out of.
I can put my soul on paper with words or paint.
I can walk into my fears and come out stronger.
I can be comforting and affectionate and peaceful.
I can be wild.
I can help my friends trudge along,
I can keep myself trudging along.
I can view the world with you, I can talk with you, hear you and if you hear me too maybe we can create something wonderful. That will not happen, though, if you keep subtly showing me I'm too damn small to matter!
The stark differences of leaving and returning. Oh, the joys of sight and change!
