Unapologetically Me

I’m nineteen and pregnant,

And all I can think about

Is how my mother will react.

I know she’s going to shout.

I know sorry wont fix anything,

But maybe this baby will be a good thing.

I will love my son endlessly.

Who cares if I don’t have a wedding ring?

I see the looks of disgust I’m given

When I walk into the store.

I will simply smile and wave,

Although their behaviour shook me to the core.

What has the world come to?

Why can’t people just be kind?

These are the people that motivate me

To teach my son how to have an open mind.

I’m shamed by society

Because of my young age.

Thankfully, with (some) family and friends by my side,

My fears are quickly assuaged.

I know I will make mistakes along the way.

Hell, some may think I have already.

All I have to say to you

Is that your comments are really unnecessary.

Why don’t you send positivity instead?

I could’ve really used it.

All I needed was a friendly smile

When I thought I was going to lose it.

“Wait- how old are you?”

Is the never-ending question.

I always look away as I answer.

I don’t want to see your facial expression.

I’m twenty now.

I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.

Never has my heart felt so divided

With a mixture of anxiety and joy.

I still get looks when I go out with my baby.

I cringe when they ask if he’s my brother.

I’m quite offended and utterly embarrassed

As I quietly whisper “No. I’m his mother.”

Please don’t judge me as a mum,

I’m just as qualified as you.

Yes, I’m young and had “so much ahead of me,”

But my dreams I still pursue.

My son has not “ruined my life.”

He’s actually opened my eyes.

For now I see roses where there were once weeds

And my happiness has reached an all time high.

Society has taught me to be ashamed.

Why? I am rich in happiness and health.

I’ve let my insecurities go now,

For I am unapologetically myself.

Please don’t say that I'm pretty. It’s not a compliment. My DNA built me this way; I did not decide what my facial features would be, or what colour my hair, eyes, or skin would be. 

Instead, tell me that my soul is pretty. Tell me that my mind is beautiful. Captivating. You are fascinated with my intellect and unquenchable curiosity. 

Tell me how you stop mid-laugh just to appreciate how grateful you are of my existence. 

Tell me how your heart swells with content when you see my eyes light up at the sight of a dog. 

Tell me that my mind is a stunning mystery. You could listen to me talk all day and still have millions of questions.

Tell me how you wish everyone had a mind like mine. Society would finally be loving and accepting. 

Tell me how I'm like lightning, illuminating your strengths and electrifying your emotions. 

Compliment me on things I’ve improved on. Commend me on my effort to be a good person.

Please don’t say that I'm ugly. It’s not an insult. My DNA built me this way; i did not decide what my facial features would be, or what colour my hair, eyes, or skin would be. 

Instead, tell me how you hate the way i nag you. My impatience aggravates you.

Tell me how my stubbornness make you grind your teeth and ball your fists.

Tell me how i crash down on you like a tsunami of cynicism.

Tell me how its sickening the way i dance in the eye of my own hurricane. I self destruct.

Tell me how you're repulsed by my vulgar mouth and crude humour. 

Criticize my actions. Make me reflect. Make me a better person.

But

Please don't judge me based on my looks,

it’s really quite unfair.

You have to get to know me first.

Go ahead, i dare. 

 -k.v.h.