I Am Sick of Writing of Love
I am sick of writing of love.
Why can't I write about anything else?
I write about love as inexpertly as I might anything else,
what is the cause of this fixation?
Have I been culturally conditioned to,
after the age of 13,
focus only on the attainability of romance?
Is the rest of my life,
my failures,
my achievements,
all worth nothing in the face of my ultimate lack of love?
Since when is my worth defined solely in my ability to attract a man,
who decided this?
Who taught this to me,
instilled this idea in my brain,
before I could even understand it?
I hate it.
I hate that this fallacy has pervaded my bloodstream,
infecting me with the patriarchal nonsense of romance.
“Chivalry is dead”,
I say,
“And so is any man who tries to use it on me.”
But,
others will argue,
it is
“simply biological”
that a woman must depend on a man,
that our ancestors found the need to mate as essential for the group's survival.
I try to find an equillibrium between these two,
that my nature AND nurture have both betrayed me
to the
inescapable hopelessness and pain that is
LOVE.
Why can't I write about anything else?
I write about love as inexpertly as I might anything else,
what is the cause of this fixation?
Have I been culturally conditioned to,
after the age of 13,
focus only on the attainability of romance?
Is the rest of my life,
my failures,
my achievements,
all worth nothing in the face of my ultimate lack of love?
Since when is my worth defined solely in my ability to attract a man,
who decided this?
Who taught this to me,
instilled this idea in my brain,
before I could even understand it?
I hate it.
I hate that this fallacy has pervaded my bloodstream,
infecting me with the patriarchal nonsense of romance.
“Chivalry is dead”,
I say,
“And so is any man who tries to use it on me.”
But,
others will argue,
it is
“simply biological”
that a woman must depend on a man,
that our ancestors found the need to mate as essential for the group's survival.
I try to find an equillibrium between these two,
that my nature AND nurture have both betrayed me
to the
inescapable hopelessness and pain that is
LOVE.