When a girl is born in a third world country…

It just hit me…

I did not think of me as a girl. I knew I am a girl ofcourse…the vagina thing…

But I did not feel any less or inferior or incapable of doing anything that I wanted to do. I remember outshining my Male sibling at everything….but math. I couldn’t compete in studies. That’s another story for another time.

So…recently, when I hear things like men are stronger than women…I get very confused. I feel strong. I can fight ugly…I have fought ugly for my life…I refuse to believe this one. I have fire within me, does my gender matter?

See…coz I am genderless today. Lemme show you how this happened…

Born as a baby girl, laughs and walks and talks like all other babies. But she dont know she is a girlchild born in a third world country. Fuck she dont know what a third world country is!

She is happy with mommy daddy and little brother.

But then she starts noticing some things. She was always told to do this n that and take care of little brother. “You are a good girl and older and responsible…dont cry because your brother got preference or you were scolded by mummy.”

Baby girl grows and plays with her Male sibling. she could play any game he played and also got into fights that made blood. She is confused why her father gets shouted at by the mother everyday. He does so much. He said it’s her habit. And I find that very confusing. She does all chores and makes tea and her Male sibling does not get called for anything. She still doesn’t get it.

She turns 8 and does something shameful. It was a game she thought because her sibling was there too….She cant tell anybody, they will yell at me. She doesn’t know she was physically abused and felt very very guilty.

That day when her chums started….changed her life…turned her world upside down. I hurt so so bad and didnt know why so much blood. My mother of ourse said its periods and every girl gets it. She made me wear this piece of fded cloth as a pad, tied neither ends with a elastic cord. It was very uncomfortable. I told her…she gave me a cotton role to tear and make my own. I didnt know how…i didnt have friends to talk…i was shy to ask my dad. O would bleed through on my school uniform and faint and be so embarrassed with stains. I hated chums.

My mother would say…

“I rode my bicycle when I had my periods, what’s the big deal with you. It doesn’t pain. Why are you refusing to go to school? Why cant you ride your bike? Why are you always making excuses? Eat your breakfast I do t care if you are feeling nauseous.why did you hide your pads in the laundry hamper?

And I fainted with shame!!

Listen…

I cant bring myself to write anymore right now.

Sorry little girl…you didnt know

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