Ginny's Story

Some women initially process their stories in ways that are not visual. Ginny created and shared her beautiful spoken word piece at a Laundry Day in my family room and with her permission, I am sharing it with you here.



Words from my Mother


I was too loud

I was too rough

I was too boyish

And I wanted too much


I should be seen, not heard

I should sit still, not run

If I want boys to like me

I shouldn’t have won


I was disrespectful

When I asked for explanations

I was being spiteful

When I didn’t accept condemnations


I was a pagan, a queer, a sinner

I had a brain disorder

I was a liar, a thief, a rebel

And I had no choice in the matter


I was broken and you’d pay to fix me

Send me to a place to shave off the pieces you didn’t want to see


I didn’t try hard enough to change, that’s what you told me

I didn’t asked God earnestly enough, that’s what you said

It made no matter how my knees were bruised from begging Him,

that my fingers bled from paper cuts on Corinthians

It didn’t matter that my cheeks were stained from tears every night

and that demons chased me when I closed my eyes


I was a quitter, a loser, ungrateful, hateful, and condemned for all eternity

And this after you found me with pills in my throat and vomit on my jeans


Then you left me to fend for myself

Full of holes and missing parts

I filled in what I could, when I could, with what I could

Until my paper mache soul fell apart


Broken, alone, and collapsing was the first time I felt it

Small, horse from unuse, a voice that didn’t originate from either “creator” of flesh or soul

A sound that, needling its way up my spine,

grew as if it was there the whole time

A noise that drew itself to its full height

and bellowed out to the world

ENOUGH


Finally, a voice of my own.


Now, I’m loud, I’m strong, I’m unapologetically me

I’m loved unconditionally, I’m free


I’m formidable

And I’m done making myself small to make you feel comfortable.


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