I’m Fighting Each Day, Walk With Me

Being a woman means having to put up a fight each day - for safety, dignity, and respect. Here's a poem about the life and battles of a woman.

Being a woman means having to put up a fight each day – for safety, dignity, and respect. Here’s a poem about the life and battles of a woman.

I hear people around me.

I can’t see them yet.

 I would be able to see them once I am born

I am inside my mother now

I already love her

She talks to me every now and then

Softly, sweetly, she even shares her dreams with me

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I think it’s time now

I see people around me

They say I am a girl

My mother is happy to see me

My parents love me a lot

I can walk now

I like running around

I like playing hide and seek

My mom says not to venture out too far

So I play around my house

I like my school

Now I am a big girl

I made some friends

Time just flies with school and all the play

Mom spoke to me today

She explained something called periods

she says it’s when blood comes out of me without me being hurt

she says it’s normal

every woman has it

she even gifted me my first brassiere

I am a teenager now

I love to play outside

I go cycling and running

I have a lot of friends

I notice something these days

People look at me in a weird way

They don’t look at my face

They look at my breasts

Mom says breasts are a part of every girl

Why do people look at me like that?

I don’t go out to play everyday now

I don’t like people staring at me

I see some changes in me

Boys have started paying attention to me

I like growing up

But I miss playing every day

The other day I went shopping with mumma

Someone pinched me from behind

I turned to see but couldn’t because of the crowd

I asked my mother why would any one do that?

She says it’s because some people think bad things when they see a girl

She asked me to be more careful

Now I know about good touch and bad touch

I am afraid to go to the market now

I don’t like crowded places

I feel people poking their elbows in my chest and brushing their hands over my behind

I don’t like going out alone

I am crossing a road now

Someone pulled my scarf away

Why did they do that?

I asked my mother again

She says not all the people in the world are good

I don’t take secluded routes

I don’t stay out till late with my friends

I miss running

The running tracks are not safe in the mornings

I want to go camping

But I read in the news that’s not safe either

I am a grown woman now

my freedom has boundaries

can I call it freedom?

I can’t wear shorts or skirts and go out

I see people staring, passing remarks

Every morning I stand in front of my cupboard and stare at all the things I cannot wear

I miss being a part of my mother

I miss my small safe world with her

I miss being safe no matter what

I have to fight my way through

That’s what momma says

And fighting I am

For the rest of the days…

Pic credit: thelotuscaroll (Used under a CC license)


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