How to build a Home; Welcome

I am not a solid woman.

I fall apart.

I am torn at the seams,

I was not stitched together well at all.

My thread wasn’t strong nor long enough I’ve been told.

A constant reminder that I can’t hold anything.

I’ve been ridiculed all my life until I learned how to sew.

I didn’t sew myself together so you could love me like her.

I did it for survival.

I did it because I was tired of losing myself,

and becoming

smaller

and

smaller.

Enough is enough.

I say no more.

I was not a solid woman because

I wasn’t a woman at all.

I was a girl learning her craft,

and what the hell do you know about that?

You don’t wanna see what goes into a young woman unfolding,

and yet you know this;

My fabric is too expensive.

Now I’m something you can never afford because

You couldn’t handle me putting in the work.

You couldn’t bare to see the wholes in my hands, and how I bled from all the needles.

This kind of work isn’t always pretty,

but look what I made me

A solid woman.