That's Me

Recently, I have been terribly inspired by poets. I have always had a special interest in African American poets as I feel the emotion, passion yet poignant control in their writing is uncanny. Recently Maya Angelou has captured my undivided attention. Writing mostly as an autobiographical fiction author, Angelou has written many autobiographies and created a new genre for doing so. She sees past the facts and into the motives, the heart, the persona, the lies, the games...all of it. She once said "All my work, my life, everything I do is about survival, not just bare, awful, plodding survival, but survival with grace and faith. While one may encounter many defeats, one must not be defeated." So much of life is about survival and keeping our head clear above the water as we gasp for a cool breath for our aching lungs. These are not moments... but perhaps months, years... decades of searching our own heart and motives for the things unseen in our own lives. The depth of something that seems aloof or potentially intrusive. There are times I would rather sink than fight to keep my head above the water. To walk away rather than press in. To walk backwards instead of moving forwards. To let life teach me rather than me arrogantly teach "it." To allow faith to resonate and fear to fade.


Often to rise above these moments I remind myself of who I am and what I am truly capable of. It is taking that "grace" and "faith" and allowing the unknown to surface. What could it be? Will it kill me? Will I know what to do with it? Can I survive this pain and heartache?


I know I am more than just a woman but this woman, on a very lousy, stressful day, needed to be reminded of her woman-ness. As women we should never shy away from loving every inch of who we are. Each one of us has survived something... don't let time erase that from our memories.


Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.


Maya Angelou