You two need to get on a treadmill, you say
we two are washing dishes, making chai facing away from you
You two are standing behind us, doing nothing
but feel the indignant need to judge our bodies
Where does this need for you come from,
have you ever stopped to consider
that this judgment that you think is yours actually belongs to an ancient society built on the backs of women
who were meant to be seen but not heard,
who were meant to take up as little space as possible,
who were meant to birth sons,
who were meant to make your life easier,
who were meant to serve
That this need you have
to look at my hips, my ass, my belly
is not your need at all but the need that society drills into your brain repeatedly telling you
I am nothing more than body,
nothing more than hips, belly, ass, breasts, legs
Even though you are simply a product of this world.
and I am
simply a product of this world
when you say,
you two need to get on a treadmill
on the night that the four of us mourn the inevitable loss of our brother, son,
I die a little inside.
Silently continue to finish the dishes in my brother’s house,
hating myself,
hating my body,
hating you for having the ability to still trigger me as a 40 year old.
It has been almost a month since,
and I am still here bathing in those words, believing them, punishing myself for this body.
This body that has healed over and over again from wounds that you pretend didn’t happen.
This body that has brought me from the East to the West, fought for me, danced, is strong, takes up space.
This body that you cannot see the beauty in because of your blindspots.
This body that suffers from my internalized oppression and still gets back up and proves to me over and over again that I am powerful, I am beautiful, I am intelligent.
You two need to love yourselves more, I correct
One month later,
alone in my kitchen finishing a giant pile of dishes.
