Monday, 27 March 2017

Grow A Pair (Of Balls) (March 27, 2017)

In the supermarket
I hear you.

A young mother
Her three
Or four years old

Promising him
A reason to cry
If he doesn't stop.

Bringing back
40 year old memories
Of my own experiences
As child.

How boys are
To publically express 
Their emotions.

In being
The strong silent type
When expressing
Sorrow or sadness.

To do otherwise
You're labelled
As a sissy.

Or worse
By society.

Bottling up
The grief.

Leaving it
To eat away 
At you.

Had you been born
As female
The rules are

Therisa © 2017

Author's noteAfter six months of starting estrogen, as part of my HRT, I was asked, what the biggest change, which I have noticed, so far. To which, I answered, being freer, in expressing my emotional self, without the fear of physical or verbal attacks, for doing so. 


  1. It is sad to hear of the prejuducial treatment you received in your life. Another city, another time, another situation and the torment need not have occurred but at least you are yourself now.

    1. Sadly, Robin, another generation is having to experience, what I did, growing up. One can hope that this loop will be broken, one day, soon.

  2. 'Bottling up
    The grief.' heaven knows what heroism is there...ugh...

  3. I love the title of this poem! I get re-stimulated by the public shaming as well, though for different reasons. The harm that gender stereotypes--the very real rules--have done and still do has not been studied well or enough. Your poem will touch many.

    1. Thank you, Susan. As for the title, just felt right, given the subject matter of this poem. In it's destructive nature, that this pejorative phrase has.

  4. Well said, Therisa. Thankfully you are now freer to express all that is inside, for so long repressed. "Bottling up the grief" - so sad. I think society really does a number on boys, which may be why we have so many messed up and aggressive men.

    1. Thanks, Sherry, must admit still have moments, when my imposed emotional sensor is still working, and have to fight it.Especially, during those moments, when I am crying, due to depression. Then, I want to hide, from everyone.

      Found myself, wondering, if that mom was having a bad day, and lashed out at her child. I know, there is no excuse, for what she said to him. Still, I only caught the tail end of this conversation and didn't want to create a scene, by talking to her, as it could be taken the wrong way.

    2. She may have been having a bad day, but, 'I'll give you something to cry about' is intimidation and bullying.

    3. I agree, Rosemary, but, for many adults, this is how we were treated, as kids, ourselves. Doesn't mean, it's right, though.

  5. Another good write, Therisa. I think your poems are cathartic, and that's a good thing.

    1. Thank you, Bev, for me, poetry is, one of my forms of therapy, I use, in my healing. Tomorrow marks the 10th anniversary of my first poem that I wrote, since leaving high school, in 1990.

    2. Potentially therapeutic for others also, I think.

    3. Never thought, of my poetry, in that way, Rosemary.

  6. It shouldn't be done to any boy. None of us should ever be told we can / must or must not / can't do something on the grounds of gender. WhenI was growing up, it seemed boys had other freedoms which I didn't. Someone asked me later if that meant I'd wanted to do things like play football when I was a little girl. My answer was, 'No, not at all – but I wanted the freedom to do that if I had wanted to do it.'

    1. Thankfully, this type of attitude is changing, but we have a long still to go, before these thought patterns are erased, from society. As a kid, growing up, I never wanted any action figures (Star Wars) or dolls, to play with, but my parents, in their wisdom, gave me, one year, for Christmas, a Star War action figure, which I looked at, and didn't really play with. More excited, in getting a book, than that toy.

  7. Rules, rules, rules! The only rule worth following is the Golden one: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. All other rules are superfluous.


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