happier then ever

About my opinions,

About my music,

About my clothes,

About my body,

Some people hate what I wear.

Some people praise it.

Some people use it to shame others.

Some people use it to shame me.

But I see you watching.

Always.

And nothing I do goes unseen.

So while I feel your stares,

Your disapproval,

Or sigh of relief,

If I lived by them,

I'd never be able to move.

Would you like me smaller?

Weaker?

Softer?

Taller?

Would you like me to be quiet?

Do my shoulders provoke you?

Does my chest?

Am I my stomach?

My hips?

The body I was born with,

Is it not what you wanted?

If I wear what is comfortable,

I am not a woman.

If I shed the layers,

I am a slut.

Though you've never seen my body,

You still judge me.

And judge me for it.

Why?

We make assumptions about people based on their size.

We decide who they are.

We decide what they're worth.

If I wear more,

If I wear less.

Who decides what that makes me,

What that means?

Is my value based only on your perception?

Or is your is your opinion of me not my responsibility?

-BEPBOC