A Person

Stop telling me that I am just a woman.
I am not just a woman
This term is stained with your confused notion of what I ought to be.
I rather you really acknowledge me
For who I am.

I am a person.
First and foremost.
Just like you.
A person who deserves respect
Who deserves the same privileges and protection.
A person whose body belongs only to herself.

No, you cannot touch my hair despite your curiosity.
No, you cannot tell me what to wear.
No, no and NO.
You can no longer tell me
How to dress
How to speak
How to act
What to do
And how to live.

I am a person
With desires and fears
With qualities and flaws.
My qualities are to be valued just as much as yours
Despite their differences.
My flaws are not excuses for you to stand above me
To repress me
To take away my voice.
What you call flaws
I call strength.
It takes strength to cry
To be vulnerable and raw.
Strength is to stand together with those who are in need
To admit that I too have some selfish priorities
And am granted privileges above those you classified as less.
No, I am not more than you
nor less than you
We are all the same

I am a person
Just like you
Just like anyone else sharing this space and time
We are nothing but people
Broken and whole
Right and wrong
Sane and insane.
Desperate and at ease.
Made out of paradoxes and paradigms.

No, I am not a woman
I am not a writer
I am not a poet.
I am not a label.

No, I am not nothing
nor anything
nor everything.
I am part of the whole
Just like you.
A simple small piece lost into the wholeness of existence
But nothing else.
We are nothing
And yet we are everything at the same time
When connected and combined.
We are living beings.

So, please stop labeling me with your stained words.
I am a person
Just like you.
I am not your property
I am not yours to play with.

I am a person
Just like you.
Flesh and bones
Feelings and emotions
Thoughts, fears and doubts
Certainties and insecurities
Passion and love
Desires and needs.

I am a person
And that is it.

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