The first time I do it… It will be right. It will be smooth and well crafted. It will not take a toll on me that hangs. Tugging down my shoulders keeping my chin from pushing my eyes up to see the layers of building tops touch the sky.

The first time I do it… finally to a man. Finally, to feel equal and stand up to him, to talk back, to call him out. To be assertive. The first time I do it… it will be authentic.

The first time will be quickly forgotten as it will be the first day that I step into that skin. The skin that I have been crafting in my mind. This skin will suit me, it has come from my mind, representing my heart, what I think and feel and especially what I know.  The first time will befinally; and then, yes, then forgotten.

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It simply becomes the way that I am. Every day. Not that one significant time that I acted the way that I would love for every woman to act. Every day, for every woman to feel free to act out against any one, especially men. To act out without fear of ridicule because we have the right. Just as one knows they are innocent.. I know that I am powerful. I have the right to be, feel and act equal.

I have the greatest desire to, for the first time… not cow-toe in inferiority, not be afraid of disapproval, not feel dizzy with the conflict between mind and behavior. I won’t care if I hurt his feelings nor will I be concerned with the interpretations of others of me: abrasive, harsh, bitchy, extreme, angry, bitter, cold, childish, pushy, touchy. I will be proud of my authentic assertion, and not ony the first time.

I know that finally, and for the first time, I finally will have found so much of me that I have been searching to know.

The part that woke me up from slumber inside of a relationship where the part of me that makes people laugh had vanished. The part that stands up for the women I know and love. The part of me that loves and trusts her womanhood. That part of me that has come out fiercely and courageously in the company of women.

Only was I able to stand up and confront the pick pocketer and the crafty thief on the bus when it was a woman and her son. Only was I able to take charge that time we were lost out on a mountain and the headlights went out.. when I was with my best friend a beautiful and successful woman. I know I have a Sergeant inside. I know she is there and she is GOOD and she has come around in the presence of women, but she has been trained so well to take her subordinate place in the presence of men.

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After the first time my behavior catches up with what I know, I will for the first time stand up courageously without regard to gender. After the first time, I will not ignore the man’s hand quickly groping me on the street (again). I will not be reluctant, worrying about embarrassing him or the woman he is with. That poor old creep who sees me as the parts of my body that he has a desire to abuse will not be ignored by me. Nor will I again be quiet and polite to the man following me, inappropriate with his words about MY body. I will not tell him that “Today, I just want to be alone,” or “Yes, it’s because I have a boyfriend, sorry”.

The first time I do it I will finally be saying goodbye to the path of least resistance.

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