More narrative, confessional poetry on April 2, 2020 and wow, this felt exhilarating to write. I am sharing the two versions here as I feel compelled to do so as I specifically describe these as "rough drafts" there is space for variety. The story of shame shows up in most families and friendships. Often it isn't intended -
Though sometimes the shame culture, like rape culture, is so entrenched the people swimming in that water doesn't recognize they are swimming or their is any water there at all.
The quote I started with is here - and below the first draft I will post the Brene Brown quote and prompt.
Lastly, I will share another prompt in case you would like to write to shame, also.
There is Nothing Wrong with My Carefully Curved Hair
It felt like a slap in the face
Starting with the sneer-mask he wore
and the continental divide I heard
in between consonants.
“You are so vain, I can’t believe you,”
I wanted to use an
curling iron to make
my hair curvy on purpose instead of
wavy with a mind of its own.
“If you curl your hair you are vain”
“If you curl your hair you are bad”
“If you curl your hair you are shallow
and clearly don’t belong here.”
These are the meanings I served on my
buffet plate of “don’ts” and “how
ridiculous can this sister be?”
This was after the time I walked
downstairs to see my other brother
modeling the white denim skirt
I had been proud and happy to
own until the I saw it fit him, too
What twelve-year-old girl wants
her finally stylish skirt to be worn
by her eighteen-year-old brother
who carefully laid our all my
failings in beauty, style or
feminine grace in one scathing sentence
after another.
“You are fat, never dainty or sweet.”
“You are fat, how can you expect
to be happy or loved or cared for”
“You are fat, just shut up and go
back upstairs so none of us have
to look at your embarrassing excuse
for being a part of this family”
so I slinked back up the stairs.
These are the meanings I served on my
buffet plate of “fat” and “ugly”
and “you don’t belong so for
God’s sake don’t even bother”
“how embarrassing can one
person be – go away and stay
away.”
Note to Shame
Dear Shame,
It is normal for a teen-aged girl to curl
Her hair with an assortment of goodies:
Tools not unlike her brother’s wrenches to
Fix a car, she likes to fix her hair and put
It in different new styles it doesn’t make
Her bad or wrong or dull it makes her an
Artist, a sculptor, a connector to other
Perhaps lonely girls who enjoy making
Their hair more pretty
And by the way, I’ve chosen not to
Pull the “blame game” lever –
Especially with long ago history,
But the images are still burned
Into my mind’s eye and shouted
Into my heart’s ears.
Dear Shame, I am sure
you remember -
He wore my denim skirt
I had been so proud to own
Only moments before it transformed
White skirt, a badge of shame,
A bullet of humiliation
No one protected me from receiving
Dear Shame, you opened the door
decades later
the echo of the unspoken pain
flew from my lips in a gust
of wind on the day after
Christmas –
I can’t
Remember how I said it, I just
Know I said it, with the ferocity
Of a lightning bolt or a tornado
It wouldn’t ever be unsaid now.
The memories charred and scattered
around the countryside, wrecked and scrambled
This unforgiveable outburst
would have become a legend
Of embarrassment and a shame joke
Told over and over and over again
But now, my words open and pungent
they became a closing chapter, a
stand taken, finally a protector -
myself - even as I
I apologized on cue about my clumsy
Confession and normally not
Allowed tears in our family rule book of life
But no one rushed in to fix it or
Deny it so I was able to consciously
Claim this as both a confession and
a wordless apology, wrongness wiped
away – memory and story intact but
sting, minimized. Just. like.that.
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