Dear God or anyone who’s listening,
I haven’t been talking to you much.
I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch.
I lost my faith for a long while.
I lost myself, too.
I forgot I was your perfect creation.
I forgot the privilege it is to be female.
I forgot I was able to create life, to make another human.
Wow, what a miracle and awesome gift you gave this body of mine.
I did not love her with all my power and weight and conviction.
I did not honor her the way she deserved.
Her beauty was lost under the pummeling fists of an angry man.
An ugly man who would break her lip, her spirit, and her desire to celebrate all things feminine.
She would learn to cower, to hide and to hate all men, abused and terrified.
Years would pass, while her self- loathing, and self-worth only intensified.
Defeated, she still slept in his bed, crying herself to sleep after every violation.
Why, God, why me?
Another girl in another town asks the same question, in some awful, God-forsaken grotesque situation.
She was late.
Oh dear God, no, no, no.
Her period did not come.
She prayed and begged mercy as time dragged on.
Unsure she could carry a child born of hate, fathered by a monster.
She was conflicted and terrified.
She prayed on her knees, begging and bartering.
She made a solemn vow.
She and I, we promised together and our strength amplified.
God, if you make her bleed, she would leave this vicious cycle of damnation.
She woke, undies stained red and smiled through tears of relief.
There would be no more rape, no more abuse, no more night terrors.
She was lucky enough to not have to choose and packed her bags good riddance.
She made a divine pact that day, to lean into femininity and beauty and the body beautiful.
She would honor all her sisters faced with impossible hard decisions.
The choice is solely and rightfully hers, and mine.
Because only another woman truly understands the right to bear children, her body, her choice.
And only she gets to decide.