If you’re gonna call me she please do it radically. Don’t box me in with it. Don’t paint me woman with it. Don’t imagine me some boring ass caricature you’ve pieced and put together from every sitcom and magazine you’ve come across. I am not the stereotypes. I am not the other people you call she. I am not your mother, your sister, your ex girlfriend that did you dirty. I am not the helpless heroine waiting around to be saved. I am no damsel in distress and I am no princess waiting around for some prince. I’ve got fucking bite. If you hit me I promise I will hit you back harder. I am a queen of my own making. People bow at my feet off a subtle glance. I did not come here to play with you. I am not some child that will come and go at your beck and call. I am not your property. You are not entitled to a smile from me, a high five, or even eye contact. Call me she if you must but know that there is a gap between all the things you think come with that and everything that comes with me. Call me whatever you want. I’m still gon’ be who I be.

Listen,
you a wonder.
You a city
of a woman.
you got a geography
of your own.
Listen,
somebody need a
map
to understand you.
Somebody need
directions
to move around you.
Listen,
woman,
you not a noplace
anonymous
girl;
mister with his
hands on you
he got his hands on
some
damn
body!

Lucille Clifton