🔥 “You Look Like a Man”? That’s Not an Observation. That’s an Attack. 🔥

Still, I Rise BY MAYA ANGELOU

You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lies………

A moment of truth.

When someone says, “You look like a man,” they know exactly what they’re doing.

That’s not about observation. That’s about erasure. That’s about tearing down women.

Because you know—you know—I’m a woman.

You recognize my womanhood clearly enough to:

• Expect me to be polite when you’re being cruel. (You would watch your back and brace for a violent reaction if you said something similar to a man.)

• Expect me to nurture even while you insult.(You would watch your back and brace for a violent reaction if you said something similar to a man)

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• Expect me to endure, carry, heal, and hush myself. (You would watch your back and brace for a violent reaction if you said something similar to a man)

So don’t play confused.
If I truly looked like a man to you, you’d expect less from me.
Less emotional labor. Less caregiving. Less self-sacrifice.
But you don’t.

You still want me to keep going.
To hold everyone’s pieces together.
To smile through it.
To accept the disrespect.
To stay beautiful while being burdened.

Just like the man you’re falsely comparing me to… I have no room on my to-do list for your nonsense.

So here’s what’s going to happen next:

While I’ve never had this particular insult flung my way, I’ve had plenty of others.

And, always with a purpose. An ignorant and hateful intention coming from deep pain & misery.

So I know just what to do with them.

I’m going to keep living my womanly life.
With my womanly expectations for the womanly rights my elegant and bad ass womanly elders fought for.

(And I want the rest too.)
Living in my womanly joy.
Giving my body womanly care.
And living in my womanly peace.

Leave me to it.
Your cruelty is dismissed.
Your opinion never mattered.
Your attempt failed.
And your presence?
Unnecessary. In my life at least.

####

Affirmations: My Beauty Is Not Up for Debate

• I do not require approval to be radiant.
  My beauty was never a group project.

• They did not shape me, form me, or breathe life into me—
  So they hold no authority to judge what they did not create.

• My beauty is not a performance.
  It is presence. It is essence. It is truth.

• I was sculpted by divine hands.
  No flawed gaze can undo sacred design.

• There is no committee qualified to vote on my worth.
  I exist beyond their grasp.

• I am beautiful through and through—
  Not in spite of anything, but because of everything I carry and everything I am.

• When I walk into the room, I do not enter for their comfort.
  I arrive in the fullness of who I am.

• Their inability to see me clearly does not make me invisible.
  It reveals the limits of their sight.

• I don’t need their “pretty” or their permission.
  I stand on purpose, clothed in the glory of my own becoming.

• They didn’t plant the seed—so they cannot prune the bloom.
  I am flourishing for my own soul, not their applause.