I thought I'd share this poem that I wrote, with you. It seemed to resonate with others in a different thread. I hope it makes sense!
When you have grown the ovum to produce life, to grow a child to be borne of your body,
Then you can call me Cis, sis.
When you have felt the ache of Mother Nature, the loss from your body every month, the pain, the mess, the shame.
Then you can call me Cis, sis.
When you have fought for your right to say yay or nay.
When you have thrust your body beneath the Kings thoroughbred to make it known, you want your word,
Then you can call me Cis, sis.
When you have endured the searing pain of a tribal tradition, felt the knife to your most sensitive thing.
Then you can call me Cis, sis.
*When a man thrusts his weight upon you and tells you it’s because he loves you.
When your whole body screams in pain because you’re trying not to allow him in. When you fear that off spring could be born of this,
Then you can call me Cis, sis.
When you are paid less than another, even though you are as good or better.
When you are not quite all the way up the ladder, because you were born without the appendage.
Then you can call me Cis, sis.
When a stroll down the street, becomes a zoological cacophony.
When the catcalls and whistles and stares make you look for the nearest hole in which to crawl.
Then you can call me Cis, sis.
When you have to cover it all, at the instruction of a man.
When your hair isn’t deemed worthy of public viewing and your face must be shielded from the light.
Then you can call me Cis, sis.
When you receive lashes across your slender back, because you dare to be a voice of freedom for those born without the privilege of man.
Then you can call me Cis, sis.
I am all of these things, I fight and rise up.
I did not choose this but I will prevail.
I am a woman.
Don’t call me Cis, sis.*