Being oneself or showing individuality is sometimes questionable and linked to deviance.
From I was growing up, neighbours would jokingly called me Tomboy
I understood to a degree what it meant at age ten
But it was not until I was twenty-five, I despise its connotations
I had accepted my femininity
But their roles of how I should speak and act
Their condescending laws, values, morals, ethic and standards
I naturally forbade.
I did not accept Tom because it was masculine
I did not accept Tom as I was no peeping Tom or Uncle Tom
Boy was not my Ideal
Not my gender
I was female and a girl who did not fit their stereotype.
I guess I have always been a rebel
Not standard or a carbon copy
Was not dolly faced lipstick glossy fake
I made people uneasy when I spoke
My presence was felt without even an exhale
Their constant bickering to act girl, dress girl and be girl
As it was their way of reminding me that I should know my place.
My feminine energy was so strong that other women despised me
Men got attracted while others discombobulated with their own insecurities
I was a trigger to their questions
I surely made a mark.
It is not easy for anyone to love and accept me
It is not easy because I am a walking tabloid that people gossip about
As their lips are like opium
My fate was in the hands of the people
Oh, they hated me.
I was epitome of female freedom to a degree
I wore comfort
Grace with strength
Even in my fragile state
Even when my womanliness I could not hide
Because of tenderness of the heart
I was steadfast with a calculated mind that never stopped unwinding
Only the brave could commit to me.
My voice was one point my hatred now it is my uniqueness
There were times, a few moments that I felt ashamed of my body,
My nature, my clothes
Was a woman so incapable of greatness that they had to be a Tomboy?
Who was Tom this phantom and why was I in comparison
My femininity was in questioned
Never my masculinity.