Home » feminism » No Apologies: I Am Woman and…I Bleed

No Apologies: I Am Woman and…I Bleed

Right now, at this moment when life seems too short for prostration, I do not feel happy. I am not ill or depressed, I have merely looked into my soul and perceived a gapping hole of unrest. My mind is uneasy with thoughts of failure and the ridiculousness of my vanity. As I write my blog, a platform for self-expression transforms into a confessional-an occasional table at which we all have sat. I ask myself, if we do this is in pursuit of redemption or merely as a cover for the desire for affirmation. For, I self-affirm daily and subsequently tear myself to pieces, like a piece of paper on which I have written a poem of bathos with allusions to my own feelings of distress.
Why do I blog? Because I was advised to. In these days when social networking is essential for all struggling writers I have entered the twenty-first century and, strangely, it feels good. However, goodness, lies in the hands of derision and darkness is forever near. Where there is good, bad threatens to invade. Thus, I have entered the blogging realm and uncovered an ego so fragile that it breaks in the wake of potential rejection. Does that render me any different from others? No. I am woman, if you do not like me, it is okay-I am not about to change.


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