Ugh, okay this is up at the request of others.
I'm open about it, in terms of discussing it and answering questions about it and my experience, but was reluctant to put it up because it has no structure...It was just written and then hadn't been touched or looked at since I had left the job. so, when I read this aloud for the first time after having written it...i realized how raw it was (not raw as in: tight, sick, and full ofmyselfdamn i am a good writer, but raw as in: shit, this needed work and revision etc.) but in a way it was good because it brought up the anger/emotions I felt at the time that I had written it.
It was read out loud recently (because I was pressured to put something out, but didn't have my other notebook) and I actually got a positive response from it (thank you to those that were there)..so here it is
this is called "Self-Hatred Proclamation"
The words burn in my throat,
The emotions well-up in my chest.
My eyes and nose tingle with
the tears that want to fall.
They expect,
and seem to know, that I
can handle this. That I
am superwoman.
She needs no help, no comfort.
She does not tire,
nor does she allow stress or pressure
to hinder her performance:
Believe, memorize, repeat to self.
Posture up, emotionless face,
dolled-up, I strut out.
My anger stemmed from the knowledge
that had been embedded in me.
In my very hatred for the stereotype
that I was being paid to portray.
In my very ambition to be
a catalyst for change. I became,
a fucking sell-out.
Fuck me, hypocrit.
I take my shittalk back.
I'm sorry I ever
shook my head in your direction.
I now do what you do.
Batt my fake eyelashes
smile and take your money.
I take your boyfriends money
I take your husbands money
I take your daddy's money
I take your brothers money
Even your grandfather's money.
I am that bitch that reinforced
your insecurities.
that bitch that said
that commercial was right
you are too fat.
that bitch that said you're too dark
that bitch that said your hair is too nappy
that bitch that said your hair isn't blonde enough
that bitch that said you don't have enough make-up on
you will never look as good as her
wear push-up bra's that push so hard
that your very tower of self-confidence
crumbles within you and you fear that guy
will get disappointed or feel deceived
when you take off, not only that push-up bra
but that make-up
those eyelashes
those 4-inch heels
and you strip down to nothing but
the very essence of what makes you - you
and you come to realize
that you
are not comfortable with who you are
because of bitches like me
fucking sell-out, hypocritical, bitches like me.
Post-word:
This was written when I worked at a Vietnamese Coffee Shop. Even with a college education, financial problems will push women to the extremity of using the stereotypical image to make money. I almost lost sight of everything that I had worked so hard to achieve, knowing very well how dangerous it is to get stuck in the downward spiral of sex-work.
Vietnamese Coffee Shops and their "activities" vary - many just serve vietnamese coffee and/or food, many are famous for their lingerie/bikini (and sometimes topless) waitresses, and many do more behind curtains...so, some may or may not consider it to be sex-work but ...although you may not be selling sex, you are selling the idea of it, which makes you/us/women vulnerable to sexual abuse.
