An Unapologetic Expression

eighteen.

Daughters

Why aren't we loved like our brothers?

From the day we started to walk we were told not to run around too much, play

rough

You're a lady, remember?

They shoved us with Barbies and babies

Preparing us for marriage, meltdowns and motherhood

When we didn't even know or understand ourselves

You should know better

Late night outs aren't for you

Shorts show skin

Boyfriends are for wayward girls

There was no escape

The kitchen was to be our kingdom where we would serve our father and

brothers

Cooking for them

Cleaning for them

We were to be their second mother

A degree was great, but marriage was our real success story

Once a mother ourselves we continued the cycle with our daughters

Instead of freeing them from the pain we suffered

And starting again