On Being A Woman

You’ve come to weddings.
God knows how many.
You’ve seen radiant brides.
Wrapped in lace and makeup.
Wearing a crown that seems to defy gravity and common sense.

You nudge your friends around you.
“She’s beautiful,” you whisper.
“She is,” they reply.
“That thing on her head is heavy, though.”

You all chuckle.
And sounding wise, they add,
“If you can’t handle that weight, how will you handle marriage?”

You smile politely,
don’t want to ruin the moment.
But you’re already muttering it in your head.
Then why doesn’t the groom wear any?

You enjoy your ice cream and pretend to go easy on it.
Yet now that it’s there, it won’t go easy on you.

The idea that a woman must carry pain
to prove she is ready to love.
That beauty must come with discomfort.
That the burden of the marriage
must first be simulated on her skull.

You glance at the groom.
You bet! His head is light.
No towering symbols of sacrifice.
No pins tucked into his scalp.

He smiles.
He poses.
He stands straight,
never having to balance a miniature of mountain on his head.

He’s been told this is his moment too.
One that comes without migraines.

Oh, crazy mind of yours.
What would it look like if both wore something unbearably heavy?
Or better,
what if neither had to?

There are photos to be taken, after all.
And nothing should get in the way
of the perfect smile.