Becoming a woman for me has been the process of unlearning to be the good girl.

Becoming a woman.

For me it wasn’t when I got my period
Or wore high heels
Or makeup.

Or when I got married
Or when I became a mother.

Becoming a woman for me has been the process of unlearning to be the good girl.

It meant learning to accept:

My body
Its liquids, excretions, and odors
My blemished skin
The fact that no matter how you “maintain” it, nails and hair continue to grow
The fact that my body is aging
Its uncontrollable shape
Its miraculous beauty and functions.

My desire
The fact that I have it
The fact that it does not fit into societally dictated boxes, no matter how it’s been conditioned and repressed.
My hunger for food, for drink, for sex
For wildness

For freedom

My emotions
My anger
My passion
My loneliness
My inconvenient truths

I became a woman when my integrity became more important to me than propriety.

When I started making my own rules, no longer waiting for others to provide theirs or to choose for me.

When my opinion of self became more important than outside validation.

When I allowed myself to stand in my naked truth – finally whole – being okay with whether the other will stay or go.
Knowing that his decisions are his.
And that people may come and go.
But that I am forever someone I have to live with.

I became a woman.

I finally owned all of who I am.