I’m Not Your Earth Mother.
I am not your Earth Mother. I am not your Goddess. I do not have to repeatedly take the high road, turn the other cheek. I’m not a stepping stone on your path. I’m not here to teach you some wisdom that you can package and mass produce and sell.
I’m not here to teach you any lesson.
I am not your Earth Mother. You’re not going to use my brown skin and “sturdy” genes and frame. I don’t want to hear that I’m closer to nature than you are, which is really your way of saying I don’t fit into your world, your success, your rules of wealth and ownership. I don’t appreciate your infantalizing as a compliment. I don’t appreciate the way you try to define me in “savage” and “primitive” terms. You call me natural; you mean “unevolved.”
I don’t appreciate the duo — Me, the natural brown teacher, who can be sexy and have your children and make you a better person, while expecting nothing — And you, the person who amasses wealth until he’s ready to settle down with someone more “like him.”
I am not your Earth Mother. I am not special and I do not want to be. I am not above wanting material goods. I am not above wanting to leave poverty. I am not above having my own goals. You can stop calling me spiritual. I know that’s your way of getting me to meditate instead of protest. I want the same things you want. I am not better. I am not half-ghost. I am not spirit. I am human, with feelings, and medical bills, and my own dietary needs, and my own sensitivities, and I am not psychic, or magical, or a fucking mythical creature. I am aging skin and blood and bone like you. I have a mind that won’t always think and a body that won’t always dance and I don’t fuckin’ know if we have souls…just like you don’t know.
Stop trying to shove me into some feminine, mystical realm as a way of shutting me up. Stop trying to shove me into some ethereal category to ignore my needs. Stop trying to turn me into a hypothetical when my periods are real blood that has to go somewhere. Stop selling me the idea of not having a body, the idea of changing my body, the idea of using my mind to fix my body.
I am not your Earth Mother. I’m your bitch. I’m your problem. I want answers. I’m not going to ascend or rise or transform.
I’m going to be right here, in your face, in this dimension, on this planet.
I am not your Earth Mother.
I’m a fellow creature on earth, like you.