002 – to/4 Women, You, Us.

I almost rolled my ankle last night.
I guess it doesn’t matter because I’m okay now, but I almost rolled my ankle last night.

It was symbolic.

I was alone.
But the symbolism chimed in when I realized I was laying on the ground whimpering with no help in sight.
I’ve always loved the night even though she’s filled with terror.
The streets were empty, no cars, no witnesses, barely any street lights,
just me and the harsh breeze smacking my tear stained face.

“Get up baby”
“Your okay baby”
“Get up baby, get up, get up”

I was coaching myself through the twinge of pain through my major fear that someone, some man, would come and grab me before I could make my escape.
Like a wounded bird, knowing she’s being so unheard right now.
She’s scared, she’s not sure if she broke her wings or not but there’s this throbbing pain vibrating through them.
This makes her more scared.

I think we as women harbor tendencies that help us and hurt us.
I think to be a woman is to continuously go through a metamorphosis of having to align and find continuous internal strength in order to make ways through external demands.
I was alone,
In that moment.
I’ve been alone,
In many other moments.
Picking up pieces that others didn’t even notice they were stepping on.
Almost rolling my ankle reminded me that all I have is me.
Adam and Eve but Eve derives from the rib.
A core.
A necessity.
And like a wounded bird trapped in her nature, I found my way up.
Back up, looking for back up, but either way,


10 Seconds of Fear, 5 Seconds of Metamorphosis by La Bonita

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