looking back to see ahead

i 've been doing a lot of time traveling lately. no, i'm not insane. just reminancing. perhaps it was the sudden urge to read the entire twilight series in the course of 3 weeks - brought back angsty feelings of being a teen/early 20 something, my love of all things goth, and my (not so secret) obsession with vampires. it also took me back to think of a person i thought i had long forgoten - she was fearless, standing up for what she believed, what she felt was right. she had a sense of style she felt secure in and didn't care what you thought about it. she loved deeply and freely. she was mystical and powerful. she was not scared to say who she was, how she was, or what she was. she was pretty freaking cool, maybe a bit high maitence, but cool.

she was me. and i would like to know where she has gone.

i've been replaying moments, relationships, conversations, reading old writings. trying to find some of those missing pieces of myself and reclaim them. it's not been easy when my mind has been so one-tracked lately. my constant state of prayer for my family has held me blind. but i've come to realize if i there is one gift i can give my children it should be me. the real me. the tattooed punk/gothy rockstar hippy political activist lover magickal ethical dreamy honest me. this is my will, so mote it be!

Herstory (1998)
so i shaved my head
not my legs
bought a pair of kakis
tucked in my shirt
do i stand before you a liberated woman
or a cookie cutter image of those who came before me
the fearless who fought my life before it began
am i honoring them
or abusing their precious power
taking in vain the beauty they fought so hard to hold
am i myself in the shell of lesbian chic
or a joke
with a punch line only the sisters of my herstory would understand
if i wear a skirt will their love fade
if the colour of my lips is applied by hand
will i be accepted
if my identity does not fit into a box do i press in my side and conform to what
is expected
accepted
except that i cant
i choose to shave my head and wear my tie with that cute new black skirt and put lipstick on my ass if thats what makes me happy
makes me
me
see my path has its first layer of gravel
laid years before my place at the table on earth was set
by those who fought with their lives
to assure that my world would be safer
that i could be
butch
femme
some-where-in-between
that i could be
me
and clothe this package of myself in a paper of any design I choose
and walk down these streets paved with herstory
paving them with pride