I’m having one of these days … you know… when you feel like your entire existence is too surreal to be true… when the lines between reality and imaginary are just too blurry to make any sense of either one.
Like many other children, I had a vision on how my life would be as a grown up… it was pretty Cool and exciting! I couldn’t wait to be a grown up.
Back then, I had many dreams… Today I am awake and smell the coffee… Actually, I drag myself out of bed as I aim for that fresh cup of Joe in the kitchen. I remember my imaginary life to be more fun than this.
I had dreams but woke up to the reality that my mare existence is because a man allowed me to.
Everything I am and own is because some man believes I could or might be worthy of these earthly things … if I ask for more, I am reminded of where most females land in the afterlife. No, not the pretty place. The other one. The place where people are tortured day and night for their wrong doing towards others.
Independence does not exist in my vocabulary.
My independence and freedom are deemed as much as a man thinks I should have. Nothing more but maybe less. It all depends on the man’s mood and state of mind.
If, God forbid, I ask for more, I will be reminded that I don’t have the gendered capacity to decide for myself how I should or could live my life.
Funny how, after that, a man turns around and calls his action pro-woman. Now, he awaits his reward for the sacrifices he has made in order to grant, impose, and force on me his definition of freedom and independence.