Chocolate you’ve got chocolate on your mouth, oh you long to be, like the other girls, your not going to be ‘some other girl’
I didn’t realise how hard it is to grow up as a teenager in our society until I actually had to do it. Nothing can prepare a person like me for that. I knew what it was going to be like, but I didn’t know how much it we going to affect me. I tend to think. A lot. About feminism, about women, about men, about how men treat women, and about how women treat men. It admittedly makes me quite depressed. I dwell on things, things I can’t change, and the fact that I can’t change it makes me even more depressed. Vicious cycle. Not fun.
I have moments of weakness. More than I would like to admit. Seems to be happening more and more lately. It appears to be a constant battle, trying to not get sucked in. Sucked in to doing what other people want you to do, what other people are doing. It is even harder accepting who I am. It doesn’t fit. I don’t fit.
I know I don’t need to fit. But it would be nice sometimes. It would be nice for me to be more accepting of myself. But in order to be accepting of myself it means accepting that I have issues with accepting myself. Vicious cycle number two. Still not fun.
My will power isn’t strong enough to face all of those things every single day by myself. I don’t have to though. I have authors like Virgina Woolf and Sylvia Plath. I have songwriters like Fiona Apple and Natalie Imbruglia. And Clare Bowditch. She wrote the song Your Own Kind Of Girl, a line of which I included at the beginning of this post. I’ll post the rest of the lyrics at the end of this post, if you wish to take a look. I love the song to pieces, although I almost always cry when I listen to it. If you haven’t already, find your Clare Bowditch. It makes the world of difference, I promise.
Chocolate, you’ve got chocolate on your mouth,
oh you long to be, like the other girls, you’re not going to be like other girls,
some other girl
you’ve been reading the magazines,
comparing your sweet body, to the bodies of natures longest ones
smoothed out with air brush guns
you’ve been wondering when the answer is going to come,
it’s not going to come
till you realise you are fine,
you’re more than enough real world needs real girls to love
I went on my first diet when I was eight years old, ten eleven twelve, through twenty one
when I came undone,
I thought oh someone tell me that more than this
So I understand thoughts get out of hand,
I still know all the shame of falling for that same old shit time and time again,
that there’s some simple answer to a complex life, it’s only $29.99
so there they sit high in their towers writing lists about what women need,
with no regard to understanding no real care about the pain they breed,
my hope for you my darling girl be brave bulid your dream in own size
coz otherwise your buying crap that you don’t need to feed a world that will not feed you
that will not feed you
Chocolate, you’ve got chocolate, on your mouth, oh you long to be like the other girls,
you weren’t born to be some other girl
You’re going to be your own kind of girl.