Feminism

I was about to leave for a tinder date.

I felt a little anxious looking at the mirror.

The dress fitted alright.

A little too alright, perhaps.

I don’t have much belly fat really.

Just a bloating problem.

A little too much of a bloating problem, perhaps.

I look three months pregnant after having like a full glass of water.

I wondered if I would be able to hold my breath in for the whole time I’m with him.

I was getting late, so I left. 

On the way, I kept telling myself -  

“You can do this, girl.”

“You breathe alright 

While passing by wide-open eyes,

Not breathing in the misogyny

Not letting it choke you.

Feminism - the pepper spray in your bag.

     

Girl, you are surviving just alright 

In this city

Where the air is polluted with patriarchy.

Feminism - that pollution mask you wear when you’re out (alone), covers up to half your pretty face alright.

You are living just fine

In a home so suffocating

'Your dress is too short'

'It’s too late to be out' 

'Stay away from boys' 

Feminism- the window in your room.”

I reach the cafe, 

Walk up to his table, 

Holding my breath.

I keep telling myself

'Girl you can do this'.

'You can hold your breath just alright'

I sit across him

And I let go of my breath

I realize

Feminism- the tabletop right above my bloated belly- letting me breathe.