"A fire that ‘femininity’ would frown upon"

Female. Feminine. Feminist.

In a sea of words that sound awfully similar

And are often equated to each other,

Is it wrong to say that more often than not, I can’t find anything that ties them together?

Is it audacious to believe that I have a fire inside me?

A fire that has a mind of its own

That jumps and dances and yells

A fire that makes me a paradox

A fire that ‘femininity’ would frown upon

Am I mistaken to separate being female and being feminine?

Because femininity has taught me to contain that fire.

Speak only when spoken to. But if you’re quiet, you’re dismissed as irrelevant.

Dress to impress. But if you wear anything above knee-length, apparently you’re “asking for it.”

Be a loving wife, and daughter, and mother. But if you show yourself the slightest bit of that love, you’re self-absorbed.

Be tender and delicate. But if you show emotion, you’re hysterical.

We’re told to place boundaries on our dreams

Because a girl thinking she can change the world is plain foolish.

After all, it’s not “ladylike” to be ambitious.

And god forbid the power of your fire overshadows its warmth

Last I checked, though, fire doesn’t like being contained.

Is it all that irrational to expect to be heard, when I speak?

To raise my voice for those who don’t have the same privilege

So that someone finally addresses the problem with slotting women into very claustrophobic boxes

Boxes that have come to determine whether we are worthy of our gender

Whether we have the right to call ourselves women

But those boxes don’t do justice to the masses of us

That exist somewhere along the spectrum.

And for those of us that lie at different ends of it

How can society deem one to be more ‘woman’ than the other?

So what if I’m not ladylike, then?

What if I care more about setting the world ablaze than being poised?

What if I want to live a life that tests the limits of my knowledge rather than keeping my mouth shut?

Then is it really all that arrogant to believe that I was born not to conform to standards, but to question them?

The shackles of femininity uphold everything that I am not,

And crumble in the face of everything that I am.

Does that make me any less woman?