Do I look like my sisters?

My skin is a few shades darker ( I never got any treatment done, to look white) and my hair unruly and unmanageable.

Though they all are a little loud, I’m the one with the most viscous tongue. I am untameable.

Do you think, like them you can tie me to men at then tell me, this is your lot in life, deal with it?

Do I look like my sisters, who are day in and day out made to feel like they are less than a penis? The brothers, the fathers, the husbands own them, can trade them, ill treat them, beat them, leave them and the society still won’t spare them!

Do I look like my sisters? They’ve bought into the patriarchy without knowing it. Accepting their fates without a fight. All the time thinking, balls to women’s rights!

Do I look like my sisters? Oh hell, no, I don’t! I look just a little like the one who nursed me when I was in a cot. She was a force of nature, she always got her way. We all revolved around her, she made us all sway. To her tunes we danced, we laughed and we played. But she taught me, to always stand tall and never let anyone, tell me what I can do and what I can not!