Woman Warriors

melissa-nieuwoudt
Baby girl bliss unborn
Your life a waiting-
growing delight within
soon discovering life outside
your current
Young girl happy
Your life a picturesque blue sky
tall trees evergreen
flowers that grow
a season streaked with color
color of light
Everyday a painted sunset
sunrise emotions
beating beautiful flashbacks
of a time you once fell in love
Travelling sailboats
for miles
following a compass of hope
no direction
lead by faith
to see where it takes you
Teenage princess hopeless
Your life a burning flame
reflection of heart
in cold times
a peace you once knew well
now only a thought to unsleeping demons
Young lady confused
Your life a New York City
buildings standing tall
statues with eyes
a busy focus-
Sleepless city
turns you into a sleepless human being
your head a highway-
unstop traffic and rush
Single beauty desperate
Your life a forest
center of undiscovered secrets
chirping birds and wedding bells for everyone else
harmless deer, over-sized moose
on the loose, camouflaged
unfound and hidden
Hard working mother divorced
Your life a blackish dark path
no escape visible
walls after walls blackened
one after the other-
Chains of depression
Life a rain cloud of pain
Tears waiting to rain down
to fall an end
Well-lived granny wise
Your life a frame
thoughts and prove of all the above
framed picture that will sell
framed picture that will tell
framed picture many knows well
framed picture of value and truth
Paint and brush= pure art!
Art of being human and understood
Art of being sold short and dealing with failure
Art of being accepted and to forgive
Art of being discovered and loved
Art of being loyal and to remain faithful
Art of being rejected and remaining strong
Art of being a woman, a survivor
Art of going through hell and back
Art of being called a warrior!
Art:
words to a poet
beat to a musician
dream to a dreamer
words and untouched hearts
beat untouched melodies
a dream in all we failed in
however long for
art from a woman to warrior

Written by Melissa Nieuwoudt

So let’s get this out the way … I’m a crossdresser

What is it that makes a woman?

So let’s get this out the way so nobody dies wondering: I’m a crossdresser and unlike a full-on transsexual (think Laverne Cox or even Caitlyn) I probably can’t handle (trying) to be a woman full-time. The scare tactics of periods, pregnancy, labour and nurturing certainly worked their trick on me. Please forgive my intrusion during women’s month admittedly only being a part-timer. Not too sure though whether a pseudonym like mine will go down well with the representatives of the braaivleis fire when they get their chance next month.

1-Fullscreen capture 20160817 115326 AM

The plethora of differences between men and woman have been explored extensively (and exhaustively) by people a lot more adept (and qualified) at it than myself. So, eager to appease my hostess and not descend into beigeness, I’ll cut to the chase: Why does someone like yours truly cherry pick the perks of womanhood, transforming into the best female version of themselves they can realistically attain, and then head out into public space?

Does the answer simply lie in the delight of dressing, the embellishing of the self in the process mostly managing only half as haute a look as the naturally gifted (read pretty much all genetic women)? Experiencing the pleasure of wrapping in the purity of Prada? The sheen of selfies courtesy Chanel cosmetics? The unparalleled pairs of Choo’s or the hegemony inherent to a Louis Vuitton handbag? (Not that I can afford any of those but a girl can dream right?).

Humbly acknowledging my aspiration to (not to mention the inspiration of) the above, the answer leaves me short, disconcertingly short. No, the answer lies in the principle of elegance which is simplicity. It lies in the infatuation with who you are, not what you wear. Why? Because woman can feel! Which means, when we’re with you, we’re allowed to feel too! Half a lifetime’s worth of (and in my case more but don’t mention it!) exposure to emotion numbing drugs (called hormones) will ensure summary dismissal from the clan of the braaivleis fire, should one venture bravely into the forbidden land of speaking about feelings. When we’re with you though the landscape changes and we dare open that treasure trove of gut wrenchers no shot of testosterone could kill off.

Let me infuriate you by digressing for a moment. It is amazing that women can be anything they choose to be. I celebrate women in fiercely fighting for victory at the Games. I am in awe of it! I celebrate the gentle kindness of the woman regularly offering me coffee in the office since I broke my leg. I appreciate it! I also celebrate the quiet strength of the woman (still) putting up with my crap 12 years after she caught me wearing a dress in her spare room 12 years ago. I love you and hope we can overcome the obstacles to us being BFF’s again soon.

The answer (for me anyway) thus lies in the pursuit of the essence of womanhood. It is in your essence that one finds your substance, the ever-elusive bit I venture to capture in emulating you. A fancy way of saying I want to be (like) you every now and then by dressing like you. I attain assimilation through simulation. A lame way of saying I believe (or kid myself into believing) I can be part of the sisterhood by looking like I belong. As a (genetic) male I can never fathom the full breadth, width and depth of feminine experience, the everyday differences or the finer nuances, the wide open expanses nor the major chasms, but I can kid myself that I do and for a brief moment I am free.

So that’s my theory and I’m sticking to it! And to be perfectly honest, it is too much fun not to! Admit it, dressing up is fun! Personally, it’s the most fun I can have with my clothes on, remember the “wedding dress” episode in the sitcom “Friends”? Please forgive me my forays into (my take on) femininity, I promise I won’t impose myself for too long. And consider being kind to your friendly neighbourhood TG (transgender), again I promise, we don’t bite.

—oOo—

Dear friends, family and other interesting creatures,

During the month of August I have contacted a few woman and asked them to share some of their stories  Subject choice is up to the writer and I trust you will enjoy this introduction to the special females on my various platforms. If you want to be part of this series, mail me wenchy@mweb.co.za

Happy Woman’s Month!

I wish you enough,

Wenchy