My Place

I see now more than ever that to the world, I’m a woman who must be ‘put in my place.’ I’m too loud, too opinionated and take up far too much space.

To the world, I’m dangerous. I will disrupt their archaic status quo, take all of their high-paying jobs and steal all their gorgeous wives.

To the world, I’m filled with much too much potential to dim, much too much fierceness to squash and much too much passion to smother.

So these men, with their giant egos and minuscule genitalia, must ‘put me in my place’ through the only area in their pitiful existence that they are ‘superior’ than me in,

Their slightly larger than average hands.

I’m a good leader. I’m courageous. I’m passionate. I care deeply and strongly. I have original opinions. I will fiercely defend anyone under my wing. I have a divine sense of humour. I’m really good with hair, makeup and clothes. I’m reliable and trustworthy. I’m a bomb writer. I have a beautiful heart. I’m an exquisite conversationalist. My nails are always cute colours. I have a delicious and electric mind, filled to the brim with movement and inspiration. I paint beautiful things. I can bake heavenly desserts.

Anyone can beat my body into a pulp, but they can never take any of those things away from me.

And in the same way Alexandria Ocasia-Cortez said on the floor of congress,

“My parents did not raise me to accept abuse from men.”

I declare here, in a Parliament of my very own making,

Punya did not raise me to accept abuse from men either.

I am not a docile and desperate woman in dire need of being put in my place.

I am too intelligent and fiery to ever want a place, I am too large and fast-moving to be able to stay in a place, and am much too strong and determines for anyone to beat me down into a place.

You’re all more than welcome to stay in a place of your making. A dingy cardboard box held together by wet duct tape and your dried up snot.

My place, however, is on the floor of the House of Representatives.

My place is among the mystical Mayan ruins.

My place is on the streets of Town Hall, protesting until my lungs hurt.

My place is on the head of each and every table and on the tail of my next big adventure.

I am grand, extraordinary, exquisite and a literal work of art.

I will never accept any less.