I don’t know what is it
About breaking the rules
And questing the foundation
Of every conventional notion
That evokes satisfaction
when finally, I rebuke it.
What is it about
Not giving a damn!
To the questioning eyes of old ladies
Or to the contempt of men
When they listen to me talk
All bold and out-spoken.
There is a freedom
That I have craved
That I find
In living as if there was no judge
As if there was no God
As if I am my own maker.
There is freedom
That I find
In loving myself for who I am
Which is nothing like, not even close to
What everyone wants me to be.
This free-spirit in me
This is who I am
Who I want to be
Even when I am drunk
Even when I am laughing too loudly
Even when I am being manly.
What is being manly anyway?
Is it being loud?
Is it being the decision-maker of your life?
Is it being free to be angry?
Is it being bold, candid, and opinionated?
Then I, being a girl, am guilty
of being manly.
I being from the so-called civilized society
That only knows how to be ideally conservative
Am guilty of being untamed.
(And by all means, blatantly so)
And for all woman and girls reading this
There is nothing I preach more
Than refuting notions of our damnable society
Who tends to teach wisdom from deep in a ditch
Than being unapologetically bold and confident about yourself
Against them who try to belittle you for being you.