I’m Tired.

But I have no choice. I must fight.

I’m tired of measuring my worth based on the scale.

I’m tired of comparing myself to other women.

I’m tired of believing the lies they told me.

I’m tired of worrying about my age.

I’m tired of counting wrinkles.

I’m tired of waiting for a prince to rescue me.

I’m tired of hierarchies.

I’m tired of binaries.

I’m tired of feeling helpless.

I’m tired of the endless wars.

I’m tired of global warming.

I’m tired of fighting.

I’m tired of isolation.

I’m tired of incessant inner dialogue.

How did my ancestors do it?

The witches and the Jews who escaped imprisonment?

Was it their community?

Was it their force?

Was it the anger that drove them?

How did they continue to fight?

How did they keep the spark alive?

How do I continue?

With no one by my side.

The world seemingly against me?

I have bits and pieces of a fragmented warrior inside of me.

How do I call her forward?

When all I want to do is fall into the pits.

Of despair and defeat.

I’d be a coward, they say.

So go on, living.

No other choice.

Survival of the fittest.

So when will those who are beaten rejoice?