Feminist By Birthright
I came out screaming, fists in flight,
A daughter born of flame and fight.
With lungs that knew the power of air,
And eyes that dared the world to care.
They swaddled me in pink and lace,
But saw the fury in my face.
I wasn’t here to just be sweet—
I came with thunder in my feet.
I learned to walk, then kicked the door,
They told me less, I roared some more.
They said to shrink, to dim my light—
I burned brighter out of spite.
They taught me rules with heavy hands,
I broke them all and made my plans.
I wasn’t made for dainty things,
But steel and sweat and untamed wings.
They called me “bossy” (with a sneer),
I wore it loud and made it clear:
I’ll lead, I’ll build, I’ll speak, I’ll stand,
With calloused grace and open hand.
I dance in boots, I cry with pride,
I carry rage I will not hide.
But joy lives here, and so does grace—
Both forged in fire I learned to face.
This crown I wear is mine alone,
Not gifted—no, I carved it stone.
From every time I stood my ground,
From every time I wasn’t found.
So let them flinch. Let them retreat.
I’ll march with sisters in the street.
I’ll raise my girls to know their worth.
Feminist by birthright, not by birth.
