quiet expectations

They won’t teach me how to be a woman—
 But they’ll notice when I’m not.
 Say I should smile more, try harder,
 Be brighter, quieter,
 Less me, more what they forgot.

They don’t speak of softness with strength,
 Or how to hold yourself without fear.
 But they'll say I need to fix my face,
 Fix my mind,
 Fix the way I disappear.

I'm not their little girl, they say—
 But don’t talk big, don’t speak too loud.
 Don’t want too much, don’t ask for more.
 Your dreams aren’t something
 You should say out loud.

They hand me mirrors without meaning.
 Tell me who I should become.
 But never hold the aching questions—
 Like how to feel whole
 When you grow up numb.

I wanted someone to show me how—
 Not just to look, but live in skin.
 To walk through pain and want and wonder,
 And not be punished
 For what's within.

But wishes are shameful, spoken needs are rude.
 Desire sounds too much like sin.
 So I swallow words and starve on silence,
 Trying to make a woman
 Out of what was never let in.