Blood is thicker than water.

I'm nine years old and my mother had sighed us both up for a dieting course.

At eighteen I still see how interchangeable fatness and ugliness are to her.

I still have to stop myself from thinking of skipping meals after I ate "too much".

Clinging to the fear of the slippery ***** that serves as my only guard.


I see it in my friends too,
comforted by their opposition for what my mother had embraced like gospal for the helpless fools.



Blood is thicker than water.

I like the hairs on my body.
The short and soft strands that cover my legs, blonde and black and all too
natural.

Removing them leaves my legs red and *****-*****- pickling for days but-

My sister laughs through a wrinkled nose,
My cousin tells stories, horrified, of women like me,
Mother says it's unhygienic and would not let me leave the house like this.


I haven't worn shorts in years.

But my friends' confident '*******' to everyone who isn't them,
who dares control their bodies and shame them into pain or hiding,

makes me feel like one day I might wear them again.



Blood is thicker than water,

I find it hard to talk to people.
The thought of discussing anything more than trivial matters makes my lunges heavy in my chest.

Talking to my parents- a heavy led filling what seem less and less like lungs with every passing second.

Talking to my friends- the heaviness doesn't always go away, but the weight doesn't get harder to bear.


I heard my mother tell a friend how her kids talk to her about everything.

A bitter laugh never tasted so much as the sea.



Blood is thicker than water,

Since I can remember myself, I never wanted kids.
Took me years so unveil why.

The dismissal cut deep when Mother assumed she knew me better than I do, a cruel arrogance for what she must only consider her property.
'You'll change your mind and give me grandchildren'

A payment for my life-
"Interest" she calls it.



Blood is thicker than water,

When I came out to you, dear parents, you once again ignored me

as if I hadn't tortured myself enough,

as if it hadn't taken me years trying to accept myself before you turned your back on me with cruel dismissal.

As if I don't still struggle.


All I have left is to fall back on my friends' support again,

being caught in their loving embrace without ever asking to.



They say you can't choose your family but-

the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.