Shame was not something that I chose
But something society chose for me
It was being taught that my worth lied in the flower between my legs
That keeping it,  preserving it made me special
That I was worth nothing if I didn’t give it to a man under the covenant of marriage
It was being slut-shamed for the very thing that men were patted on the back for
It was being taught that I need to act a certain way, know certain things before I was deserving of a good man
It was the weight in my chest and the silent tears because I thought I wasn’t good enough
It was being told not to wear  skirts or dresses that were too short or tight
Because I might pass the wrong message to a man
It was the responsibility placed on my little shoulders from puberty to conduct myself appropriately
Or I would be assaulted
It was being told to wear tights underneath my jeans so that they wouldn’t have easy access
It was avoiding dark corners, moving in groups of girls and taking all the necessary precautions
Like I had anything to do with the actions of a sick and twisted mind
It was the shame and blame I placed on others when they didn’t conform
The judgment I passed on to them too
How dare you be this bold, confident and courageous in who you are
In your sexuality
While I was struggling with mine
Shame is something I refuse to feel anymore.

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