Inspiration: The below piece began as a short write that I shared in a Firefly Creative Writing class led by Jenna Tenn-Yuk at the Toronto Public Library. We were provided with a page of writing prompts and a page of memoir challenges. We were then asked to combine the writing prompts and memoir challenges in a variety of ways. I chose to share the following: "I want to write about the time he said..." (writing prompt) as a series of haiku (memoir challenge).
Timing: I started this piece on Wed May 1 2019 with a 6-minute write in class. In that time, I could only come up with two haiku, which I've since revised for the below piece. I initially shared my two haiku in class that day, but there was no time allotted for feedback. I expanded on this piece on Wed Jun 19 2019 and completed the series of haiku on Fri Jun 21 2019. The final version of this piece was published on 52 Memoirs on Fri Jun 21 2019.
***
RESIDUAL
You would be much more
Attractive if you would just
Not dress in that way.
You'd look so good if
You could lose 10 pounds. Your legs!
They look like tree trunks.
Why aren't you normal?
Why are you so different?
You're too weird for me.
RESILIENCE
I love being me.
Uniquely expressing my
Self through what I wear.
I'm thankful for my
Strong legs to support me as I
Walk, play, celebrate.
It was a blessing
To be deemed too weird for you.
I found my true love.
REGRET
I tried to hurt her
Deeply -- and I did saying
She'd meet the same fate.
Her mom passed away
So young, so young. I feel such
Deep shame in my words.
Was I a cruel child?
Filled with anger, lashing out?
I wish I hadn't.
***
Reflection: My initial series of two haiku felt unfinished, so I knew I wanted to further explore this series by writing a few more. I wanted to provide a response to some of the hurtful things that were said to me many years ago. I still struggle with self-image and fear of judgment, but I am slowly rediscovering who I am and gaining confidence by expressing my true self. The process of writing helps. Lastly, I wanted to reflect on one particularly hurtful thing I said when I was around 10 years old and how deeply I regret those words. Sometimes words are just words. But sometimes they can remain in one's mind for years to come. Likely not his, but mine. Mine, but hopefully not hers.
Timing: I started this piece on Wed May 1 2019 with a 6-minute write in class. In that time, I could only come up with two haiku, which I've since revised for the below piece. I initially shared my two haiku in class that day, but there was no time allotted for feedback. I expanded on this piece on Wed Jun 19 2019 and completed the series of haiku on Fri Jun 21 2019. The final version of this piece was published on 52 Memoirs on Fri Jun 21 2019.
***
RESIDUAL
You would be much more
Attractive if you would just
Not dress in that way.
You'd look so good if
You could lose 10 pounds. Your legs!
They look like tree trunks.
Why aren't you normal?
Why are you so different?
You're too weird for me.
RESILIENCE
I love being me.
Uniquely expressing my
Self through what I wear.
I'm thankful for my
Strong legs to support me as I
Walk, play, celebrate.
It was a blessing
To be deemed too weird for you.
I found my true love.
REGRET
I tried to hurt her
Deeply -- and I did saying
She'd meet the same fate.
Her mom passed away
So young, so young. I feel such
Deep shame in my words.
Was I a cruel child?
Filled with anger, lashing out?
I wish I hadn't.
***
Reflection: My initial series of two haiku felt unfinished, so I knew I wanted to further explore this series by writing a few more. I wanted to provide a response to some of the hurtful things that were said to me many years ago. I still struggle with self-image and fear of judgment, but I am slowly rediscovering who I am and gaining confidence by expressing my true self. The process of writing helps. Lastly, I wanted to reflect on one particularly hurtful thing I said when I was around 10 years old and how deeply I regret those words. Sometimes words are just words. But sometimes they can remain in one's mind for years to come. Likely not his, but mine. Mine, but hopefully not hers.