(escapril, day 10: femininity)

Being a woman is not wearing a purse or curling my hair.

I prefer coat pockets and a wide-tooth comb, thank you very much.

It’s not the curve of my back or the sway of my hips.

There was a time before those, and there will be a time after.

Womanhood is something deeper than that.

More than anything, it is a webbed world of connection.

One built on shared fear, the strongest tie there ever can be.

It’s a look that says are you okay? Do you need help?

When a strange man on the metro sits next to me,

Leaning a little too close, talking a little too much.

I call my girlfriends when I’m head over heels for a boy,

Or when one is close at my heels, making my head buzz in a different way.

Hi, I love you, I’ll be home soon. Don’t forget to take the dog out.

Words wrapped in something I can’t say, but she gets it anyway.

She stays on the line until I’m inside,

Shoes off, flopped on the couch, chips in hand and some reassuring garbage on the television.

The feminine mystery is how we’ve been able to survive hundreds of years,

Of nature and nurture pitted against us.

The secret lies in how we are to each other.

It lies in seeing myself in every little girl with a skinned knee,

In holding grandma’s free hand when we go down the stairs,

In picking up the baby in the second between waking and tears,

And singing her back to sleep.