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

(trigger warning: childhood trauma)

girls mature

faster than boys


we are taught

all the ways

our bodies are


for violence


how our lips are

dripping with



how our thighs are

rancid with



how our blooming


are traps for the

eyes and hands

of grown men


we are taught this


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


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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