#womangirls

[potolawas]

Portret van een jonge Javaanse vrouw. Ca. 1920. . 📷: OldIndische . . ⤴Follow💟Like 💬Comment 👥Tag 🔄Repost ============================= >> @potolawas << ❤ >> @potolawas << >> @potolawas << ❤ >> @potolawas << >> @potolawas << ❤ >> @potolawas << ============================= . . #potolawas #potolawasjawa #explorejawa #womangirls #jongen #jonge https://www.instagram.com/p/BxEoD3mhvbF/?igshid=bihvrb7sogi5

[joolabird]

Women need women.

This piece I dedicate to my mother, my sisters, myself, and my shame. My shame in being a feeling being. A human creature, And a woman creature as well.

Women need one another. Soft hands to lead you through your minefield of a mind at times.

Women need women to come home to. After a long day in the world, Wandering the line between-

“Am I man enough to belong here?”

“Am I beautiful enough to be deemed woman enough?”

Women need women to walk them back to the sanctuary of themselves.

I, myself, am woman with kaleidoscope mind. The churning and churning of colors elaborate and conjoined.

Every place I go, I am everywhere I have ever been all at once. Speed of light and sound- I feel the curve of the earth in my chest like a sandstorm. A billowing sheet above a colorful array of earrings and beaded pieces.

At times, I feel my feelings like a boisterous display. Loud, and ugly, and unwanted.

I wish I could not feel like this. I wish I could not show so much.

I long for a calm sea in the center of my chest. Easy to swim across. Simple to see to the other side.

I long too often to be simple. To be something I am simply not.

At times, most times, I need woman to lead me through my minefield of a mind. Woman to hold me still while I watch the world spin me sideways and say,

No man has ever known, No man will ever know, The divine infrastructure of your kaleidoscope mind. The sandstorm heart, The blood pulse to the beat of life itself, and a life inside.

But he will peer, Like a child, Into the kaleidoscope if you will let him. And he may not always like what he sees, The juxtaposition of your indigo, and your deep emerald green.

But woman your woman is enough. Intricate and prefect in its geometric shapes, and placements.

And sometimes in my dark apartment, I envy the boys in my life. I wish I could zip up in a sweatshirt and be like them. Cover my hair and my body and the fears and the desires and the questions I live that they will never understand.

But I am woman, And I need woman to remind me, I am divine.

You are divine.

Share this if you have women in your life that need to hear this.