I have a gender. I was born a woman therefore I have fear.

I have fear. I am taught at a young age to fear the monsters that come out at night, on the street corners and in dark allies.

I have a particular monster. When I was 11 I was diagnosed with anxiety, a fire that becomes uncontrollable at times.

I have a home. To get to this home I have to walk multiple blocks at night.

I have a phobia. This phobia includes those who walk behind me, and those who walk too close.

I have rationality. I am told I am rational for fearing those who surround me as I walk home.

I have what is expected of me.  By society I have expectations of what I am supposed to look and act like to be considered a successful woman.

I have a roommate. This roommate smokes to curve hunger and in her cigarette burns more than ash but less of what she desires.

I have a mother whose wrinkles are beautiful and tell stories. These wrinkles tell the story of every smile she gave and every laugh she enjoyed, but she is told they are ugly and she covers them day after day.

I have ears. With these ears I hear women telling themselves they aren’t good enough.

I have eyes. With these eyes I see my own reflection and try and see myself as less of an image, or reflection, and more as a person.

I have mind. With this mind I create a vision of a place where people hear what I say instead of seeing what I wear.

I have a life. With this life I want change.