Only If I Loved Me

for girls still finding their way back from hiding

If I loved me,

I wouldn’t have said “whatever you want”

every time someone asked where to eat,

wouldn’t have ordered the cheaper thing on the menu

just to keep the bill neat,

wouldn’t have laughed at the joke that stung,

a half-second too fast, before it was even done.

I wouldn’t have said “I’m fine” while packing my things,

wouldn’t have rushed to reply to whatever silence brings,

wouldn’t have said sorry for crying,

sorry for asking twice,

sorry for the last seat, like I had to pay a price.

I wouldn’t have picked the color that made me pale,

because someone raised a brow,

Wouldn’t have let someone rearrange my face

into whatever made them comfortable,

softer, smaller, out of place.

I wouldn’t have canceled on myself

to be available for everyone else,

If I loved me,

I would order the thing I actually crave,

stop shrinking my hunger for life just to behave,

let the silence sit there, unafraid,

instead of filling it with an apology

for a mistake I have never made.

I would wear the color I love best.

Cut the bangs. Fail every outdated test.

Say no without the three paragraphs of why.

Cry in front of people, and not perform being fine right after I cry.

I would let myself be dramatic about small things

and quiet about big ones, however that swings,

without editing myself into someone easier to hold,

someone easier to fit, someone easier, less bold.

I would sleep in.

Skip the thing I dread.

Buy the flowers for no reason,

say what’s actually in my head,

even about something small,

even if the room goes still,

even if my no isn’t met with goodwill.

If I loved me,

I would stop putting my comfort last on the list,

and start giving it the room it always missed,

not louder than everyone else’s,

just no longer dismissed.