Performing Femininity

My womb protects me, envelops me. The curves along my waist, breasts, stomach, all value is derived only through extremes, never from ones being. It isn't and will never be enough to be average, to be mediocre, to be. Instead, the individual is then morphed into the epitome of femininity, postured and perfect, or quickly discarded. Yes, I'll play the role, fulfill my part. Without the patented creation and dedication to the creation of a new life outside of your own where does your worth truly lie? It will never be intellect, as we bleed and breathe to bear the world's sons. Yes, I'll perform, dance and twirl at your beck and call. Perhaps if you perform and perfect your body, sensuality, and femininity, that might be enough. Yes, I have been properly managed, tamed, prodded at and molded. But of course, there will never be a guarantee, because there is always the risk, the delicate balance in which there always lies the fear of forsaking yourself through violence, through anger and resilience that could never be accepted as "feminine". A failed performance. The crowd will still watch and marvel at your undoing. A second-rate, consistently monitored existence. "Being" will never be enough. Better luck next time.