I’m 5’9”, loud and strong. 

I’ve got big hair, perfect brows and a straight back.

I radiate confidence, sexuality and metaphorical ***** as my curvy hourglass figure walks with purpose down the street.

My attitude says “There’s nothing I can not do.”

My eyes say “You wanna fight? I’m ready.”

To them, I’m a lioness. 

I protect all that is mine — except from myself. 

Behind the facade, I am small. 

Behind my words, I am afraid. 

Behind my sunglasses, my eyes are wet. 

And under my luxury lingerie, I am naked, just like my soul is when I’m writing.

I’m not who they think I am, are you?

To the men who tell me I’m prettier when I smile,
the ones who feel uneasy if I frown for a while.

To the men who make me question myself,
the ones who make me put my worth on the shelf.

To the men who finish, then stare at the ceiling,
too scared to ask me how I am feeling.

To the men who make me burn out like a candle,
who tells me that my love is too much to handle.

To the men who take and never return,
this is my last hope that you’ll ever learn.

You seem to think my heart is invincible,
either that or that my body is somewhat dispensable.  

You turn off your feelings, afraid to seem weak,
run away when you see the affection I seek.

I played along, thinking “sure this is normal”,
but I’ve been enlightened and my complaint it is formal.

So listen up men, because I have a voice,
what used to be an orifice, is now making noise.

You made me a fool, left me with no clue,
but I’ve come to see the only fool here is you.

You’re missing out, and I finally see,
God told me “bless up”, then pulled you from me.

Actions over words, I know, what a shocker,
I’ve dug out my self-respect from the back of my locker.

So here it goes, a few words of the wise;
the “girl you were *******” now has a surprise.

Listen up “men”, because you have a choice,
until the right one is made, the correct term is “boys”.

To the demon inside me who tries to break me,
the one who laughs at my dreams mockingly.

To the demon inside me who tears me down,
the one who’s behind my every frown.

To the demon inside me who tells me I’m fat,
and whispers no one will ever love me like that.

Where did you come from, and why are you here?
Why do you insist on filling my heart with fear?

I thought I outgrew you, had you defeated,
but on my right shoulder you’re comfortably seated.

Luckily for me, shoulders come in two’s,
and every day between you and my Angel I choose.

She sits on my left one, loving and calm,
Her strength vibrates through me like a church with a psalm.

The battle between you seems never ending,
though slowly but sure I feel my soul mending.

Your claws may be sharp, but Her wings are strong,
and she will uplift me through this journey however long.

Covered in my shining armour,
carefully hiding all the love that I harbour.
Straight back, head always held high,
never showing them how hard I try.

Don’t offer a smile, they may not smile back. 
It’s better to fake the strength that you lack.
Pushing away the dream of true love,
covering my heart like a hand in a glove.

“Resting ***** face”, “intimidatingly fierce”,
sunglasses covering all of my tears.
“You’ll be happy alone”, I tell myself,
dreams of marriage pushed back on the shelf.

But then how is it, in the end of the day,
when I lay down in bed, it’s of true love I pray.
When the armour comes off, and I’m true to my soul,
I feel something missing for me to be whole.

I stretch out my body, my muscles are sore.
Bruises and marks from the armour I wore.
Like light through a crystal, it all becomes clear,
my shining armour was created by fear.

What I thought was my helper, was always an enemy;
pushing potential soul mates far away from me.
Keeping me away from all that I wanted,
all caused by memories of which I am haunted.

“Strong independent woman”, “single by choice”,
most times I don’t even believe my own voice.
But at night without the armour, I see the true me;
my soul and my heart both rejoiced to be free.

It’s time to be brave, let them all see;
the love. the kindness. the vulnerability.
I’ll take off the armour, piece by piece, over time;
true strength comes from within, and I see this is mine.

Maybe this is where I truly start living,
maybe it’s here I’m awaken. 
Maybe this is where my burdens are taken 
by something greater that sees that I’m tired,
and the demons inside me will leave me inspired. 

Maybe this is when I truly start growing, 
my naked soul will finally be showing. 

So firmly I stand, and deeply inhale, 
never again stepping back on the scale. 

Maybe it’s now, right here, that I see; 
it is my soul, not my body, that should drop to its knee. 
Because it’s our souls, not only bodies, that should be connected, 
without any worry of what is expected. 

So firmly I stand, sigh and breathe in, 
realising not loving myself is my only sin. 

Maybe this is where I truly start living,
maybe it’s here I’m awaken. 
Maybe it’s here my doubts will be shaken,
to the ground where I will leave them forever,
consciously choosing to always endeavour.