Written by Daysha Veronica. Directed and produced by Ryan Bergara and Daysha Veronica. Interns: Freddie Ransome (sound). Mama says you’re a pretty girl.
You’re my angel, my baby, my star, my world. But if this is true, Mama, if this is fact, then why do you say such hurtful comments to me? How can you do me like that? “You look like slut in that dress.” “Those yoga pants say that you want much more.” “And if you leave my house looking like that, everyone will think that you’re just another loose girl.” But why should I care, Mama? Why should what they think matter? Because nothing hurts me more than when you point out that my thighs have gotten fatter. Or that being sexual person makes me a bad daughter. Mama says you’re a pretty girl. You’re my angel, my baby my star my world. But if this is true, Mama, if this is fact, then why do you talk about my body the way that you do? How can you do me like that? I’m either your little good girl or that slut who likes it rough. But when I plead in opposition, you say girl, you need to calm down and listen. You’re just a little too tough. You need to smile just a tad bit more, but not too much because then you’ll look like a whore. I either eat too much or not enough. I’m too thin or too thick; too fat or too skinny. But Mama why can’t you hear me? I have a woman’s body and I will not apologize for that. It’s the body that you passed down to me. So how can you shame me like that? These thick thighs. These full lips. These killer curves. These bodacious hips. You’re the one who blessed these gifts upon me. So why do you say the ugly things that you do about my body? These questions are not out of spite for you, neither contempt or disdain; but I just wish that you would take the time to contemplate the words you’re always saying because I can’t live another day listening to your internalized hate. It may hurt you to see me in a short skirt, but there’s nothing that hurts me more that to hear you perpetuate this virgin-whore dichotomy. For years and years’ I’ve tried not to let it bother me, but I can’t anymore because women need to learn to live in harmony. Divide and conquer; that’s how they keep us down; that’s how they hold us back. They make you feel shameful for the skin you’re in, and see to it that we pass it on to the next of kin. But that’s got to stop, Mama! We can’t be about that life anymore. I just want to love my body, be a sexual being, and know that you won’t see me as just another whore; that you’ll still think of me positively; that you’ll be able to see me for more than just my body. Mama says you’re a pretty girl. You’re my angel, my baby, my star, my world. But if this is true, Mama, if this is fact, I need you to stop saying the hurtful things you say to me. I need you to have my back. - DAYSHA VERONICA
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