Poem - Born A Woman

This poem was originally published as a piece of art for Centre for Feminist Foreign Policy's 2020 journal — Disrupted. Here’s the link to the journal.

In my mother’s womb

I grew

Arms. Legs

Body. Mind

Heart. Soul

Taking shape

Taking form

Only to learn

That every space I enter

Is given on lease to me

Subject to my body

Born a woman

…

A room. I must seek permission

To enter

A bed. I must honour the man

I sleep with

A street. I must pay respects

Fully clothed

A future. I must validate

Before dreaming

…

Breathe, breathe it all in

Stick yourself to the wall

Shrink yourself to the size of a keyhole

So small, that even you cannot find your reflection

in the mirror

So quiet, that even you cannot hear your footsteps

as you walk

So misgiving, that you lose your way

inside your own house

…

Legs closed

Breasts hidden

Laugh suppressed

Opinions negated

Thoughts drowned

Pain ignored

Abuse appropriated

Fear normalized

…

My identity, contextualized

Into words that cry hollow

That scream into the void

Shadowed in perceptions

Of what being a woman meant.

Modesty

Obedience

Suffering

Woman’s honour

They said.

…

Soon. I learned to give space

Not just to other’s opinions

But also make home for them

My mind, that was my sacred space

I turned into a gall of invective

Towards every inch of my body

Narrated by millennia-old cadavers

Singed by traditions and expectations

Embalmed off the self

I now sought permissions

To take space

Even within my own head

…

Covering all spatial dimensions

A woman holds

This world convinces her

She must agree to the tenancy

Before she is validated

Of being whole

Her self is not pronounced by her own

Her self is defined by those outside

…

But, my mother did not howl

Giving birth to me

She released a battle cry

To announce my being

Nurturing space within her

She bestowed me with the energy

To carve my own space

To create a destiny

…

A lesson this world forced me to forget

A lesson I now carry every day

Space. Is not an affirmation

Space. Is not a quest

Space. Is miscarried hope

That I try giving birth to

Wherever I am

Wherever I go

Mariyam Haider is a researcher-writer and spoken word artist based in Singapore. She has worked with authors James Crabtree and Suchitra Vijayan on their non-fiction bestsellers. A journalist by training, Mariyam is the producer and host of ‘Main Bhi Muslim’ podcast and her writings have been published in Asian Review of Books, Centre for Feminist Foreign Policy, Livemint among others.