WOMEN'S MONTH SPECIAL | Girlhood is the first grave

There are two ways to bury a girl six feet under: in silence and in violence.

You see, burying a girl in silence can be deafening that even she knew not to mess with it. In silence, all she could feel were the doubts that lingered on her skin for far too long. She would start to loathe all of the deaths that she has experienced. In silence, she was alone and shivering… and a prey. No one knew her there but the sacredness that holds her dear. The girl is a devoted catholic. She believed that the only way to feel God up close is in silence—even if death lurks in there. With the quivering clasp of the rosary, she would kneel in front of the altar of the cathedral where sins are first committed and she would silently, and desperately cling to the very prayers that keeps her alive.

But little did she know, the gods would eventually prey on her in silence just to get a taste of that sweetness. The girl is afraid. She’s always afraid. And yet, she did not stop being a girl. She may keep on shoving down her throat all of the rage and misery that keeps on haunting her, but it doesn’t stop her from the fact that she is, indeed, a girl. And that truth keeps her alive, no matter how girlhood keeps on dragging her down to her demise.

Meanwhile, a girl can also be buried in violence where bloodbaths often bathe the ground. Being a girl means she must bleed, every single day. No, not the kind of bleed where she would waste all of her blood by hurting her flesh. But the kind of bleeding that goes beyond her bones and flesh, that will last longer than the scars that have tainted her skin. You see, her menstruation makes up for who she is. Her vulva is not a temple—it is the path of all the darkness that she consumes daily. Her womb was not made solely for sheltering a fertilized egg or giving birth to mankind, no. Her uterus was her own cathedral where she stored all of her grief and silent wrath. This is where she trapped all of it. That’s why she bleeds herself dry every month.

It’s never been easy being a girl with breasts, with a womb, with a vulva as it can be bloody and terrifying. Some people might believe that she is made to carry an offspring when she’s old enough to have one. But they’re just one of those greedy people who wanted to tarnish her innocence at an early age. Along with them are people who made her dirty and useless. She is not useless—that girl is a brave dreamer with a bleeding heart. All of her frustrations in life and the dead dreams she keeps on holding; it was stored deep into the marrow of her bones.

In reality, no one knew that she was aching and bleeding inside because they don’t really care for her. Still, she grasped whatever hope she could find. She may feel changes on her body, but never did it cross in her mind to forget being a girl. She wholeheartedly embraced it no matter how long she bathed in the bloodbath of her own bleeding. She loved it, no matter how she breaks herself into a million pieces.

You see, girlhood is both salvation and death. And every day, being a girl means being buried six feet under.