Childhood

FromĀ a ‘meme’ that came across my FB feed earlier:

(trigger warning: childhood trauma)

girls mature

faster than boys

because

we are taught

all the ways

our bodies are

bait

for violence

 

how our lips are

dripping with

seduction

 

how our thighs are

rancid with

sin

 

how our blooming

curves

are traps for the

eyes and hands

of grown men

 

we are taught this

lesson:

how our bodies

betray us

in the presence

of men

 

we are taught this

at the soft age of

five, six, seven

 

many a times these

lessons

are forced

upon us

 

while boys just get to be boys.

 

~Ena Ganguly

 

Powerful words, affecting me deeply. I am no poet, but in a small way I bare my soul to the view and judgment of strangers. I write. My childhood was not pleasant in many ways. I was betrayed and hurt and taught, as the poem says, lessons at the soft age of five, six, seven.

Even now, surrounded by love and strength and security, I worry about the coming betrayal: because if it’s this good, there must be a fall coming.

That is (one) price I pay for the traumas of my childhood: constant fear of what might happen if I’m not hyper vigilant.

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