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These are the thoughts of a broken girl. Just an ordinary girl in a busy world trying to make sense of whatever life offers her.
When I was a little girl, I played with mud. That was when I fell in love with my brown skin. The earth had my color. Each time I touched the earth, it was difficult to know where I ended and it began. All life belonged to my brown skin.
Life grew on my brown skin. The rainbow stretched from one end of my body to another. My eyes had the sky and the stars etched on it. I had mountain weaved in my hands. Rivers beneath my feet. I loved that I was earth. When little girls are set free, they love who they are. The earth set me free. My skin belonged to her. I am her.
I am the little brown skinned girl.
I am earth.
No, I won’t change my surname to yours when I marry you. I love you. But I don’t want to be you. I want to love you, being me. The sky has never asked the Sun to melt itself within the Sky. That is why the Sun lights up the earth.
I want to light up like the Sun, by being me. My surname, like yours, carries the struggle, strife, glory and victory of my ancestors. My ancestors’ sing through me. I don’t want to give that up. I want to keep it with me, so that they live through me.
Can we love like the Sky and the Sun and give birth to Earth?
Mothers must tell their daughters firmly that if any man punishes you, you must leave him. For love does not punish. If he calls you crazy and says, you are worthless, you must leave him. For love does not call names.
And if he says that you are his charity. You must run away the fastest. For love is between equals.
If you cry more than you laugh. You must leave. For love feels good.
Suffering is no virtue.
Love nurtures. Love evolves. Love feels right.
This article is part of a series. You may read Part 1 here.
Image source: Unsplash
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Proud Indian. Senior Writer at Women's Web. Columnist. Book Reviewer. Street Theatre - Aatish. Dreamer.
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