When did it all start? Tell me, was it always okay?
This word that was created, and the pain we face each day.
Did it start with my mum? Her story, so like mine.
I never even knew. She'd hid it all this time.
When I told her that he'd touched me when I was just nine.
And she told me that was normal, I would be just fine.
She said 'That's just what boys do when they are growing up.'
But WHY was it okay for him to feel me up?
Is that why when I was eighteen and had waited all those years,
I gave myself to a guy who only gave me tears.
Because isn't that just normal? Isn't that their right?
Even if the thought of it makes me sick each night.
And the dark path that I followed, was that all for none?
The worthless feeling drowning me for something I had done.
How about the morning, that I woke up all alone?
With the ache between my thighs and no memory of my own.
Is it my fault for drinking? Or wearing certain clothes?
I tell myself I'm fine with it, besides, no one else knows.
How about a relationship that started out so nice,
But soon I lived in fear and always paid a price.
Should I have listened better? Why did he get so mad?
Is it fine because he loves me? Is it really all that bad?
Or that time that I was pregnant? I remember the surprise.
As I held my gut in agony, as blood ran down my thighs.
I never got to hold him, he never got to grow,
Because his daddy had taken him, with a single deadly blow.
It was that point that I realized, no it's not okay.
I would have raised that boy good, to never hurt that way.
Just because they're male, or big and strong and tall.
That doesn't mean they have the right to make us feel so small.
I want out of the mindset, that says this is allowed.
I'll make sure that my opinion is heard good and loud.
If I ever get the chance, to have another son.
I'll make sure that I raise him to never hurt no one.
And if I have a daughter, I'll make sure that she knows.
That she is strong and beautiful, more precious than a rose.
So no, I don't like catcalls, or when you grab my ***.
Because I'm more than just meat, that you can taste or pass.
I am a woman, young and strong and free.
And it would be a privilege to get to know me.
Hard to write. Good to say. None of this is okay.