My pronouns are she, her and hers. I add
this to my name tags now, acknowledging
that There are more things in heaven and earth
than are dreamt of in old philosophies.
Once upon a time, surrounded by
women, I believed my identity
depended on having a womb—and so
dreaded a needed hysterectomy.
But I awoke afterwards even more
female in body, mind and soul, even
more feminist and non-traditional,
and more aware of women’s hard choices.
A year later, I fainted during my
doctoral research in Italy, and
woke up to male doctors questioning
why, so young, I couldn’t bear children.
Neither fever nor chills concerned them, not
pouring sweat nor stomach pain. Nor that they
could violate me while I was passed out.
Not that they saw me as damaged, not ill.
Chilled to the bone, I begged for more blankets.
Scared to death, I asked to be discharged.
Told not until my fever broke, I fled.
The women in the clinic cheered me on.
My pronouns are she, her and hers. I add
these to my name tags now, quite happy
that There are more things in heaven and earth
than are dreamt of in old philosophies.
So this is a happy poem, a poem
of praise, a poem of gratitude that some
of us escape the cage. Biology
is not destiny. We can overcome.
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
© 2017 Susan L. Chast
