being a woman

I was inspired by a question recently about if my life was really more or less privileged than a man’s, given that women have all the same provisions and rights accorded to men under US law. I was also inspired by a recent lesson in my sociolinguistics course about the language society assigns to and about women. This is a poem about the second language all members of my sex share - my second language is the language of and about women.
 
being a woman
it’s so glamorous and clean
and nice and pretty
and good friends and brunch
and look at your nails
i have tights that i love to wear
i look so pretty and chic
and you’re so lucky, because they give you things, since you’re a woman
you make more money doing that, since you’re a woman
i’d use my body too, if i were a woman
and they say all of that to me.
 
and then sometimes
i am so nice and pretty
perfect for going to brunch with pretty friends
and talking about nails
and tights.
 
i’m a good woman
i’m good for a woman
and i have women’s rights
and you have everything that a man has
they say.
 
and maybe it’s true
i have everything a man has and more
because now they give me things, since i’m a woman
and i didn’t ask for them
and it hurts me
and my family
and women i don’t know
but i know all women, because we are all a part of the same
struggle
and we take things
and if not silently,
they give us even more
they give me a name
and i’m a slut, and a whore
and i can make money doing that
since i’m a woman
and they tell me to use my body, too
since i’m a woman.
 
and the whole time i am pretty and chic
and my nails are perfect,
but my tights have runs
because they give and they give.
i am part of society now
(they gave me that)
and society gives and gives
to me,
(a woman)
rights
responsibilities
names
jobs
and i don’t want to say what else out loud (but you know)
because they never took away the other parts
of being a woman.