First published on our old site on 1st November, 2018
At our Open Mic Night in September, we were honoured to hear Kayla Feldman perform her spoken word poem, "Real Women Have Curves". She has allowed us to publish it, and to find out where you can hear more of Kayla's poetry, scroll down to the bottom.
I come from an army of curvy women.
Long-haired ladies
With blue eyes and thick thighs
And asses that never quit.
With these childbearing hips
(That, according to my mother, didn’t make it any easier)
We could sway and sashay away
From any problem.
I come from queens who stomped around the kingdom
With our too-big feet
Tell our skinnier friends to put meat on their bones
And leave the laxatives at home
Kick their bony asses to the curb
Because real women have curves.
Isn’t that right?
Real women have curves
And big girls don’t cry
And good girls will be virgins on their wedding night.
Black girls are sassy and can twerk on command
Asian girls get on their knees for a man
And band girls are kinky as fuck.
You’re always in luck with Latin girls
Or the ones who’ve got issues with dad
‘Cause they never get mad if you’re late, or forget-
They’re used to it.
Feminists are gay
And so are the ones that you “didn’t fancy anyway”
Bisexuals are just out for attention
Oh, and did I mention
The slut who didn’t say no
Or the whore who dumped you three years ago
Or the bitch who said you were full of it
Called you up on your bullshit
Let’s admit that these things are true.
They’ll put you in a box, too.
If you let them.
So go on, tell me.
Tell me that real women have curves
So the numbers on a scale won’t get on my nerves
I’ll let you build me up
And watch you crush the skinny girls to dust.
That’s okay.
They were barely there anyway.
Watch my stiff upper lip start to quake
As I ache, and I bawl
At the end credits of Bridge to Terabithia
(I don’t care how big you are – if you don’t cry at that you’re made of fucking stone)
Twenty-one, still a virgin, that’s a bit of a joke,
But you’re damned if you do and you’re damned if you don’t.
It’s the slut-virgin binary,
With nothing in between
And to be seen as either one is tainted.
So go on, tell me.
Tell me I’m a real woman.
As if there is such a thing.
Tell me I’m “too white to dance”
That I can’t shake my ass unless you tell me to.
Tell me that my brand of feminism makes me gay,
Then get out of my way
So I can talk to that girl at the bar.
But, because I told you no,
It’s just for attention
Just pretension
Just repressed sexual tension
And nothing is real unless you say so.
I come from an army of curvy women,
And I am a goddamn queen.
But if real women have curves,
Do I end at the wrists?
Or the squareness of my shoulders?
Do I become a “real woman” when I cast a shadow?
Is my only power
In a willingness to tower over others
Pulling up the covers to hide my edges
To shield the sharpness of my bones
Because no-one wants to see the chinks in the armour of a “strong woman”.
Real women have curves,
And corners,
And sharp bones wrapped in muscle and flesh.
What makes us women isn’t strength
Or resilience,
It’s the army at our backs.
It’s the shield and the sword
And the chord of our fight song.
Our battle cry
Asking why we aren’t allowed to be our own.
What makes us women isn’t sisterhood,
It’s lifeblood.
It’s the tracks we have made in the sand
And the brand of that word:
Woman.
Real Women Have Curves is the opening section from Hear Me Out, the debut play from
director/writer Kayla Feldman. Hear Me Out opens on 27th November at the Tristan Bates
Theatre as part of Maiden Speech, a festival aiming to offer fresh perspectives on gender,
sexuality, and identity through a myriad of stories and styles. Tickets from £7.50, available
here: https://www.tristanbatestheatre.co.uk/whats-on/hear-me-out
Cover image credit: CurvyKate