I'm Not Free Until
By. DeAnza Spaulding
I am not free until
I can hear my voice and not curl my nose
I am not free until
I can hear my voice and not feel hot with shame
I am not free until
I can hear my voice in a recording
and not criticize and demean
And not say you dumb dumb broken thing
I am not free until
I no longer cringe
I am not free until
I let my thoughts and opinions flow
—until I speak without self-sensor
—until the filter is decimated
I am not free until
I sing in all the keys
— uninhibited in all the keys
I am not free until
the second guessing is eliminated
until the doubts subside and release from the fringes
I am not free until
your voice no longer dictates how I hear mine
I am not free until your opinions no longer matter
god knows I have been fighting to be free
damn if I haven’t been trying to shove you— to be free
but then someone asks me, “what do you think”? and what is your story”? And I freeze
I remember how you told me sweet girls don’t have thoughts
I remember you telling me that my blouse was one button too many undone
I remember you dissecting my ideas with such precision I didn’t even detect the invasion
and fuck if I don’t find myself triggered
I am not free until
I am not triggered
I am not free until
I can see that this is my courage
I am not free until
I can trust my inner wisdom
I am not free until
my quirks and stylings are embraced (by me)
I am not free until
the guilt evaporates
I am not free until
the heat from my breath—
And fuck if I’ll let you have me
Even if I’m broken I’d-rather-die-broken-than let you have me.
And maybe you thought I’d twist into oblivion
Maybe you hoped I’d keep shrinking until I was— dragged – and wind
And this is my voice—hear it—
I won’t be buried and so
I keep rising until I am free
DeAnza is a mother, lover, sojourner, trauma therapist, feminist, international psychologist, researcher, human rights advocate and spiritual seeker of truth. She identifies as a brown, queer woman.