Me Too

I’m five years old and I’m in kindergarten

My mom lets me sign up for tee-ball

And I’m the only girl on the team

And the coaches, they don’t know how to teach me

They’ve never coached a girl you see

It must be different right?

So they stick me in the outfield

Where I won’t get it by the ball

Where I pick flowers because nothing happens

And I’m bored

And they’re surprised when I’m the first kid

To hit a ball to the fence

I’m six years old, still in kindergarten

And I got punched for the first time

And I’ve got an ice pack on my face

And I’m crying

And today I don’t remember the words he said

Or what made him hit me

I just remember the boy in my class

Who I tried to make friends with

Because it was the first day of school

And he was crying

Because he was scared

And he got mad at me for noticing

Because “boys don’t cry”

I remember the teacher telling me

“He probably likes you”

And I didn’t understand

Because my mommy said you don’t hit

So how could he like me if he hurt me?

I’m about to start first grade and my second year of danceline

And the uniforms come in

And my mom pitched a fit

And made me quit

Those costumes were not what we were shown

They were little more than glorified lingerie

When another mother heard I was leaving

She protested saying

“I was worried what my husband would think

But even he thought it was sexy”

And my mother thanked her

For proving her point

Because I was six, almost seven

And if her child went on a football field

To dance for her team

And a grown man called her “sexy”

There would be a murder

And we left

I was in fourth grade

When a girl who hated me

Cried fake tears to get me in trouble

And the P.E. teacher, he screamed at me

Terrified me, and put me against the wall

And held a microphone to me to project my sobs

“I didn’t do anything!”

I cried, only to hear his laughter

Only to hear the rest of my grade follow his lead

He was a teacher, everyone’s favorite

Because he let kids fight on the playground

Only making them stop when there was bone or blood

It was sixth grade when I had only a few friends

And began to recognize my depression for what it was

And we were on the playground playing kickball

I stepped up to the plate

And a boy on the other team sneered at me

“Let’s see what you got, ponytail”

I knew all too well

The mocking that would follow

If I messed up

“You play like a girl”

The synonym for poorly

Or inadequately

So I squared my shoulders

Kept my eye on the ball

And kicked it right over his head

I was at second base before it was recovered

And people cheered

Until the next time I tripped

It was the following summer

Almost time for the new school year

I’d be in the high school building

And my mother was constantly reminding me

Not to go to anywhere alone

Especially not the bathrooms

A boy who was always rude

Asked me out and I turned him down

He didn’t like that

No one says no to him

So he said awful things like how much better off

Everyone would be if I was dead

And I ignored him

Until he went after

The one friend who stood up for me

Then I called my mom to come get me

Because I wouldn’t stay here at school

While he pulled this crap

She brought me and my friend to the office

And asked to see the principal

And we showed him the texts

And told him the story

And he laughed in our faces

Told us not to bother him with our seventh grade drama

I was thirteen

And asked to be the girlfriend

Of a childhood friend

And I said yes

Because we knew each other our whole lives

And it was the fairy tale story girls always want

Except it was distant

And awkward

And we couldn’t talk to each other anymore

And even from the first time

The “I love you”’s felt wrong

And I wasn’t terribly disappointed when it ended

I was fourteen when I met him

Tall and funny

Not really my type

But a good friend

Who was dating a girl I’d once been friends with

He was someone I could count on

And I realized he wasn’t

When he began flirting with me

And that hand on my shoulder

Traveled a little too far south

When I told him to stop

And he called me a whiny bitch

He was nice to me, he said

I was nice to him

I lead him on, he said

He deserved a girlfriend

Who would do what he said

Whenever he said

And I was fifteen

And dreaded going to school

Would wait in the car

If I knew he was in the store

And he made fake accounts

To harass me and my friends on social media

And his name still sends a chill down my spine

Which sucks because I have a cousin

With the same one

An anxiety disorder coupled with depression

Cost me my school friends and made me leave

Made me want to die

I’m in counseling

And take countless pills

For sleep

For pain

For hope

For keeping me alive

When I can’t breathe

And the world needs to stop

Stop spinning for a moment

And I think of the other girls

In my situation

And I fear for them

For the seventeen year olds

Turned moms

After getting drugged at their proms

For the fifteen year olds

Getting groped in the school halls

A place that’s supposed to be safe

For the twelve year old

Told to cover up

Because they have boobs now

And that suddenly means it’s okay

For grown people

To sexualize them

For the rape jokes

And unwanted touching

And the bruises hidden with makeup

And sunglasses

Because as little girls we were told

That if he hits you he likes you

For school dress codes

That say girls can’t have shoulders

Or knees

Or boobs

Or butts

Because it’s distracting to male students and faculty

For the fact that I am sixteen years old

In the year two thousand eighteen

And we still have to march

For basic human rights

Yes we can vote and it could be worse

But it could be so much better

For the right to marry

For equal pay

For not having detailed plans to get home safe

For healthcare

For love

For the right to have the final day of our own bodies

For the girls who didn’t have a choice

And the hope that the next generation will

That we will be the ones

To bear our children

And teach our sons to behave

Instead of teaching our daughters to be afraid

For religion

For culture

For race

For orientation

For freedom

For you

#MeToo