There is something misty about it. No one can really tell what it is. How is it so powerful?
The ones who wear it and dare to show its best curves under tiny shorts, are called slut.
The ones who wear it covered under warm turtleneck jerseys, are called prude.
The ones who wear it and dare to use its loud vocal power, are called hysterical.
The ones who wear it and don’t bother engaging in silly conversations, are called bland.
The ones who wear it and decide on not misshaping it to put another human on this planet, are called narcissistic.
The ones who wear it and proudly breastfeed their offspring in public, are called an insult to public decency.
The ones who wear it and don’t feel like freely giving it to some guy on a first date, are called conservative.
The ones who wear it and like to share it multiple times with multiple people until they find a true catch, are called easy.
The ones who wear it ornamented with silver piercings and ink doodles, are called weirdos.
The ones who wear its XL version, are informed from childhood that they are taking up too much space.
The ones who wear it smaller and smaller, are suspected of hiding a mental eating disorder.
The ones who wear it in varying sizes, yo-yoing through the scale in different times of life, are called many things in the silent voice of disapproving looks.
This precious, yet utterly criticised, female body I am wearing right now, will never please everybody. But at least I am aware that the women who are true to themselves, and wear their bodies as they feel like wearing it, should be called brave.
Hoping this reaches at least the feminist next corner,
p.s. – Illustrations by the amazing artist Krikilika, check out her aesthetic art account on instagram ( @krikilika )