FIRST PLACE WINNER

Girlhood.

My girlhood began the first day I was told to sit with my legs crossed
Because it "wasn't very ladylike" to sit with them open,
But the boys, that were sprawled across the floor and covered in MUD
Would always go unspoken.

And the first time that I knew that my girlhood meant weakness,
Was when teachers needed help moving tables across a classroom
And asked "if there were any strong boys to help,"
And dare not look at the girls in the room.

Then soon, girlhood became boys being bullies,
And your mother telling you, "it's because they like you."
You can't remember when love and abuse became synonymous,
But I imagine it was around now that this became true.

Girlhood is hating your parents at 14, and yet somehow
hating yourself even more.
It's secret kisses in the backs of crowded parties,
And the first time that you are casually rejected
because of your LOOKS.

Girlhood is discovering the beauty of female friendship,
Even though it takes you a thousand tries.
It's sleepovers with 6 people crowded into a spare room,
And by midnight, all of you have cried.

Girlhood is being told that "this classroom is not a hairdresser"
And that we should be interesting, and not care so much about our looks.
But when we don't try, we are UGLY and LAZY.

It's being told that it's not quirky to be into books,
or being told that we cannot have passion or interests, it
Must be NAILS, MAKEUP, and HAIR.
But then this makes us too shallow, and you are not allowed to point out that this is unfair.

Girlhood is having a hair tie on your wrist, knowing it was not yours to begin with.
It's having your notes app full of pre-typed out texts,
You read them over and over, but know you will never send them.
It's holding the hair back of someone you do not know,
and being passed a tampon under the toilet stall door.

Girlhood is wondering if you tell your mother if you love her enough,
Contemplating if she knows how grateful you are,
that she made glue from her strength and somehow held this world together,
And I wished I believed her when she told me she'd done this before.

Girlhood is the message sent and then phone thrown across the floor.
It's promising you don't have a crush on him, because it's too selfish to ask for anything more.
Girlhood is wondering if you are pretty enough for the internet,
For anyone to simply make up their face.
It is sitting in front of the mirror for hours,
And POKING and PRODDING at your face.

Girlhood is the beauty of confusion,
The passion of not knowing who you are,
It's being all the things they tell us not to be,
It's being expected not to flinch when they leave a SCAR.

Girlhood is PAINFUL.
And BLINDING.
And SAD.
And BEAUTIFUL,
And supposedly "not even that bad."
Although it's only men that tell me this...
And the perfect mess of girlhood is something that they will never have.

Kassandra Santos