We Have Not Yet Witnessed the True Beginning of Female Autonomy

We have not yet witnessed the true beginning of female autonomy. That sacred threshold-crossing would bring us into our rightful interiority—the only region wherein true sovereignty can be carved out, recovered, and hallowed.

We, as women,
have built identities
atop a consciousness that is not our own. A land of impacted ideas, beliefs, systems, and institutions that we have appropriated into. To be woman, still, is to be defined by accommodation—the unconscious and acquiescent adherence to non-native habitats. 

Or else, the unconscious swing of backlash, that inevitable pendulum of any animal forced into a state of perpetual adjustment, lost in translation. And so, we remain uninitiated.

The self we call “ours”
is a self mediated through the earpiece of the thrice-removed inner voice of the translator. There is no original text to return to.
No native land we
have yet remembered. We know ourselves only in response—to culture, to expectation,
to man. We have not yet commenced the sovereign life. Not the one built on opposition, rebellion, or borrowed forms—but the one forged from within, the one that springs from a
woman’s own interior,
undeniable knowing.