i was taught to respect men,
to do as they pleased.
whatever they wanted —
labour, trust,
kisses, hugs,
all tasks to complete.

i was taught to be present
and think about
what to cook, what to clean.
improving the home
was my responsibility,
my duty:
wife/woman.

chores weren’t lessons
to prepare me for adulthood.
they were the unwritten contract
for a gig i never booked —
emotional provider,
on call for life.

i was told
to wither the storm,
that it would pass
once he went to bed,
that who i really was
could emerge then,
unsuppressed.

i was told to think small
and never dream,
focus on finding decent company,
settle and provide grandkids
so they can grow up
in the cycle i did.

i tried to obey,
i swear.
but it never fit.

i wasn’t born
for the sake of men.
i exist,
but only
for myself.