I dont understand Feminism

I don’t understand feminism
After all, men don’t write poems about being men
Scanning through pages, thick with words like
“Voluptuous” and “Mother” and
“Vagina”
and I don’t understand it.
Is something wrong with me, I wonder
That I haven’t felt a need to contemplate the form my body takes
It is simply
what it is and can never be anything else
But what it is.

I don’t understand feminism
I don’t understand the anger at things that have already ended
Or are as inevitable as living
Discrimination exists regardless of role
You WILL be judged by everyone who is not you
But that doesn’t mean you must do it too,
And so harshly.
That is what they are there for, but
You are there to not pay attention
how can they say what you aught to be
They are not you.
They will never know
your story, even if you tell it.

I don’t understand feminism.
The desperate call to
“love who you are” and “who you are is beautiful”
and things that go without saying
Reiteration takes its force from denial,
as one trying to convince theirself
How hard is it to just accept who you are and then just
Be.
I don’t understand the fighting.

I don’t understand feminism but
I understand the daily shift
The bizarre twist of the self that is not you
Changing out of control
Hair and
Blood and
Body
Where there didn’t used to be
I understand
Facing a mirror with the knowledge that
My face today is not what it was yesterday
Or what it will be tomorrow
That child’s cheeks have acquired
Freckles and acne and
Will acquire
Wrinkles and hair

I don’t understand feminism but
I understand confusion
When what I thought I was, wasn’t the same as
What other people thought I was
Where individuality is preached but somehow im still not good enough?
I understand feeling lost in a labyrinth
Where it everyone else seems to have
A better idea of the right direction

I don’t understand feminism but
I understand eyes watching, scrutinizing
I understand hunger
Eyes eating up the me that is not me
Should I be flattered? No. Should I be offended?
I don’t think so.
I know I shouldn’t accept this but….

I don’t understand feminism but
I understand fear and
Wanting and
Hands and
Trying to scream around them.
I understand that hate and heartbreak and being used
Are all things that happen
In this world
Where bad things happen to ensure the balance

I don’t understand feminism but
I understand the WE
That draws power from alikeness
Collective conscious of experiences unique
I feel my connections
Holding us linked
Differently to each other than we are to others
And I understand

But I don’t understand feminism.