day one hundred and ninety-one : facing the wind

i became a woman
late
i had already read the books
sat through the catholic workshops
witnessed the walks
of all the girls around me
change

my mother reassured me
as i looked down at my flat chest
it was good news
studies about
late bloomers reaching higher levels of education
not being loose nor getting pregnant young
it was good news
the body coming when one is more mature
and able to make better decisions about it
it was good news
it was because i was
thin
a word my mother said with adoration

i felt distanced
as the girls around me talked of pads and boys and making out
and the boys started to see me less and less like one of them
able to run and play sports with them during recess

years ago now
has it really been that long?
i still don't keep one
in my bag
like my mother did

the last six years
there's is always one night
when i feel my head will explode
and two days, one day later
there it is
a saddened smile of realization: that is why i have felt such fire
weep for three, four days
and then finally the feel of oh-so-bright

but the four days
i cannot two step forward and one step return
i am only a girl of twenty-eight
digging the soles of her feet
into the dirt
fighting the will of the wind
determined to send me back flying