Not a poem; just an essay that doesn't conform to conventional beauty standards

I have studied enough people to know how to conduct myself in a way for individuals to regard me as “likable.”

I know how to bend myself into everyone else’s idea of what a person in the world should be.

I know how to pick up on a person’s interests and regurgitate it back to them as my own personal views.

I know how to bat my eyes and speak softly, just above a whisper, to elicit a feeling of endearing and “cute.”

I know when to listen for my name so I can lift a bowed head, smile, and nod silently in approval. I know when the situation calls for me to fold myself — limbs, spirit, and all into a small and manageable box.

I understand that what people want of me, in all of my Black womanness, is to tell them that they’re right and that I agree — but not with my words.

I understand that they want me to be quiet.

I understand that in order to be accepted, I must undo myself at the seams.

I simply will not.

I know that if I crush myself into the ideas and desires that individuals have of me, it will be my unbeing.

I cannot lose myself, playing a fabricated version of myself for people who will never see me as a whole person.

I don’t want to be anyone else, no matter how difficult being me can make it to retain company.

I cannot pour into people who will never love the me that I am.

I will only change for the better, I won’t change for you.

“If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive.”

— Audre Lorde