I celebrate your flowing curves, your life, your brain, your exotic movement, your grace. I celebrate your color; brown, black, white. Even on days that you feel gray. You can’t escape snide condemnatory assumptions and that’s nearly everyday. I celebrate your strength and courage to fight the will of being considered the “lesser than species”. You have been marked as property for generations and the strength of the femme has given us what God had already given them. A voice. A choice. The option to rejoice or to fight if we may. The working woman, I celebrate. A nine to five, half hour break, and only eighty cents worth of work is marked on her skin. The housewife, I celebrate. She is stripped of her dignity for choosing to care for the home you live in. Whatever the case, never forget that a woman carried you, held you, fed you, or gave you your name.
Happy International Women’s Day.