an ode to what I used to be

I was thinking this morning as I was getting dressed about how different I am, inside and out, from just 6 or 7 years ago. Getting ready for class back then, I would have pulled out the first clean smelling t-shirt I could find-- tight fitting vintage baby tees (with no bra as I'm barely a B) was all I wore. I loved a good mini skirt, the shorter the better, with fishnet stockings and tall biker boots. I had this one olive green skirt with buckles all the way up one side. My arms were always covered in rubber bangles or tied up with ribbons or leather cuffs. I loved pink and black or red and black or blue and black, but always black. My hair was cut off at my chin, asymmetrically, and black-black, blue-black.

This morning I put on a turquoise loose fitting tank top (with a bra), a black cotton skirt, and black strappy beaded sandals. No jewelry other than my diamond stud earrings and my trusty watch. So I guess I've just toned it down. I've toned everything down. I needed to-- living at full volume was sucking out all my energy. 

But in ode to who and what I used to be, to the raging, angry, and wild girl, the one who'd cut and dye her hair without a second thought with her own hands, walk outside in her underwear, go without a bra to work, would protest inequality and injustice with every breath, and chase any guy she wanted before he could chase her, I give you Bikini Kill with Rebel Girl.