For Dr. Andrea Harris
“I was born a bitch. I was born a painter.”
“I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me, too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it’s true I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.”
-Frida Kahlo
I was only twelve
when you appeared
in my Spanish textbook.
Long before thick eyebrows
were “on point,”
and before I was a feminist.
There you were,
unashamed in your natural state,
enveloped by tropical leaves.
With a monkey on one shoulder, a cat on the other,
and thorns adorning your neck
perfecting a regal resting bitch face.
Dressed in white, butterflies in your hair
looking fabulous as ever
eyebrows and all.
Now I’m sorry
for cackling with the class
and criticizing your unibrow.
I didn’t know
about outdated gender roles
or bullshit beauty standards,
and I certainly didn’t know
about your art,
and how it would someday enchant me.
All I could think about
was how strange you looked,
and I couldn’t help but wonder
why you chose to include
such an easily erased
aspect of your face.
But in the age of #NoFilter
and body positivity
I couldn’t love you more.
You were a catalyst
for the movements that preach
the values I now cling to.
You are an inspiration
to strange people
all over the world.
Yes, I am here
I am one of the people
who is strange too.
If there was one thing
that I could say to you
I would thank you
for being unapologetically yourself.
For being a bitch.
For being a painter.
Who inspires me to
to be a bitch,
and to be a poet
Who never plucks her eyebrows
Shares selfies with no filter
And pours her strangeness into all that she does