Good Girls

My hips, they extend outwards in imitation of the horizon believing they will be welcomed like the morning sun signaling the beginning of a brand new day—
They are not.
My belly, it extends forward and under filled with excitement to be part of the world bouncing happily along as if constantly waving to those passing thinking it will be met with the same cordiality—
It is not.
My thighs, they rustle together making me chafe as I walk to class—or anywhere really—thinking the constant “swish-swish” friction of fabric is like the chatter of gossiping friends whose conversation will be interesting to all those around them—
It is not.
No, you see, they exist in a world where they are unwelcome—even though they harm no one. Their absence is what is preferred by most, men and women alike.
On this campus you see slim, sun kissed ladies who do not rudely “swish-swish” to all those who walk by, or wave with their abdomens to strangers. Oh, no. they are good girls, disciplined. They are well educated and they know not to be intrusive, to not take up space except when they are beckoned. Except when they are summoned for entertainment or pleasures of another. They do not make their existence known.
Good girls silently and almost invisibly just passing by—no waving, no speaking. Just perfect. Just shut up.  Just don’t eat that. Just wear this.  Just buy that. Just don’t love yourself. Just hate the rest as well. Just behave.

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