For Suzie

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Synopsis:

A poem I wrote when first coming to terms with my own gender issues.

Story:

For Suzie

by

Valentina Michelle Smith

When I was five, they took my doll away.

Her name was Suzie. Made from bits of cloth
And stuffed with rubber foam, she was my friend.

Within my darkened room I held her close
For comfort from the terrors of the night.
I knew that Suzie would protect me from
The monsters dwelling underneath my bed
And dark-cloud faces staring in my window.
And, when the dawn had banished all night's demons
My special friend and I would greet the dawn.

"Don't be a sissy, son!" my father said.
"You're older now. You're starting school next week.
"Big boys don't play with dolls." I did not cry,
Since tears were not an option for a boy.
Instead, I held emotions firm within
And took it like a man. And on that day
I laid the first foundation for a fortress
Strong and forbidding, terrible to behold,
A fortress known as manhood. Stone by stone
I added to my fortress. I would learn
The things that were expected of a boy;
Like how to fight, play sports, make fun of girls,
And never show emotions to the world.
My fort protected me. My fort was strong,
Like me. And yet, within the fortress walls,
A child weeps, and mourns her long-lost friend.

The child will emerge some day, arrayed
In beauty, grace, and confidence. Some day,
But not today. She fears the world outside
And dwells within her fortress walls, alone.
If only Suzie could be with her, then
She could be brave. Suzie would protect her
From monsters dwelling in the hearts of men
And stern, condemning faces staring at them.
Together, they would banish all night's demons
And face the world together, unafraid.
And unashamed.

(c) 1997, Valentina Michelle Smith

Notes:

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Comments

I had a doll when I was small too

I described Robin in "Kelly Girl". He was a boy doll and he got left behind or lost during one of our frequent moves.

Beautifully, told, Tina.

{{{;>
Wanda

Nice

I never had a doll, my companion was a bear made for me before my birth by a friend of my mum. He still sits on my bed, I still hold him sometimes when the world becomes too much.

See I never learnt to be a man, to hide my emotions. I did learn to bully, and to pick on those smaller than myself. I learnt from those around me!

Now I'm old (29) I see it all from a different perspective, now I don't try and hide my emotions, sometimes when I'm out in public the crying fits are a little too much so I hold them in, sometimes I'm proud that I am different, most of the time it depresses me, how different my life might have been if I had had the chance to either fit into society from the start or the strength to be me.

Thank you for the poem.

The Legendary Lost Ninja