How dare you? hangs from my trembling lips whilst you ask

Why do you get so angry when boys see you in your underwear, but not in a swimming suit?

I want to have the power for once –

The power of choosing when you get to see me almost naked

The power of feeling safe whilst changing my clothes

Not worrying constantly about hidden cameras and sudden swings of a door

When someone enters the enclosed capsule around me

One time, after a heated argument, you asked me: why are you crying

Why is your body trembling so violently

My train of thought already approaches a different station,

Bringing me all the way back to my seven-year-old self

Who was faced with having to speak up for the first time

Every tear left a trail of reminders

Of the words leave her alone leaving my mouth

Of how my father looked at me with cold eyes full of hatred as he told me to shut up

Of my mother being defenseless against the drunken words that pierced her soul

I trembled the same way my body did back then, taking cover from his piercing eyes

You ask why do you get so angry when I suggest you wear something pink, girly

Instead of what I want, blue or black

My mind heading back to all those times I would be reminded that I’m a girl

Those colours are for boys not for girls

You ask why do you get so angry when I ask you to clean the house

My mind heading back to all those times I would be reminded that I’m a girl

Cleaning is what girls do, not boys

You ask why do you get so angry when I tell you to be careful before you go out

My mind heading back to all those times I would be reminded that I’m a girl

All the calls, all the texts, telling me to be home early, to not adventure far

As the world is too wicked and I seemed too naive to fall in its traps

Suddenly, I start to smile

You ask why

I smile at the remembrance of a twist to the phrase – boys will be boys

Well, girls will be girls

And girls will always take their power back.