It’s been a while since I last posted a poem on here. That one was all about uncertainty and feeling incapable of making those ‘big and important’ life decisions. This one follows a similar train of thought: it covers the uncertainty we can feel in relation to ourselves. It’s one thing to feel unsure about the future plans you’re making, it’s another thing to feel unsure about your most basic abilities to do things and succeed at them…
Growing up female comes with a whole host of challenges, much like a christmas chocolate selection box where an array of horrors disguised in tempting, shiny foil nestle inside. Of course, there are plenty of great things about being a woman, but this post is about the times when sadly that is not the case. More specifically, this post is going to focus on one of the most commonly discussed issues of growing up female: the pressure to look a certain way, or do certain things to be ‘beautiful’.
In a simple, kind world, we would be able to appreciate everyone’s differences, and also spend way less time thinking about them. What I think is even worse than the pressure to fit into a particular look, is the underlying concept that a woman’s worth can be based on her appearance; both how she naturally exists and through what she actively does or does not do with her body. Yes, it’s nice to acknowledge beauty, but do we really want to live in a society in which this is, so much of the time and evident across all media platforms, the most important aspect of being a woman?
For the first time since I started this blog in November, a week has gone by without a post appearing. This past week has been a struggle for me: I’ve felt extremely low, often anxious and quite lost. Normally, creativity in the form of writing helps to drag me back out of these periods, but this time has been a little different. I felt like I lost all motivation and inspiration, and that it would be hopelessly pointless to put words down on paper, or rather, a screen, and share them with the world.
This process of retreating away from the sometimes overwhelming world of social media gave me necessary isolation and a break from the speed at which things fly up our news feeds online. It also led me to a desire to create something for myself without the pressure of putting it out there for everyone to see. And so I returned to a neglected love of mine, filmmaking, and created a short spoken word poetry video about this lost feeling I was experiencing.
once i licked my finger
and held it to the wind
in the hope that its direction
would give me an idea of where to go
but i am not the wind
the tree outside the window
blocking the sun
plasters my bedroom wall