I Am an Emotional Creature: The Secret Life of Girls Around the World (3 page)

Wendy laughs and it’s too loud. I want to be pretty. Wendy is incredibly kind. I want to be skinny. Wendy is on the outside. And I am no one. Wendy is by my bed and she is drawing my picture.

Girls can’t control anything

Boys can do anything they want

My brother is adored,

I am ignored

My boobs, people talking about my boobs

People assuming you can’t do something

My boobs, it all changed with my boobs

Blood, cramps, seven days

People thinking you are weak

A girl can get pregnant

You have to do your hair

You have to remove your hair

Wash and iron clothes

More chance of being raped

Have to take care of husbands and kids

Girls can’t work even though

they are educated.

One in five U.S. high school girls say they do not
know three adults to turn to if
they have a problem.

I like bad boys

It’s the danger

He goes to boarding school

He’s a darker person

Sort of like me

We’re both troubled

I’m better at hiding it

I cut myself

Trying to find something I’m good at

My father is very successful

High expectations

I fail them a lot

I’m not the person they want me to be

My mother wants a perfect family

I don’t believe in perfection

Perfect in my mother’s world:

Straight A’s

Super-thin

Being intelligent and happy

Really good at everything

I don’t know who I am

Cutting myself

Trying to control

Everything crashing down on me

It became a release

I gave my mother a poem

She sent me to a shrink

My shrink

gave me a rubber band

to put on my wrist

Rather than cutting I snap myself

Mom wants me to be a model

She weighs me every day

She weighs herself twice a day

Her older sister was a model

and she was fat

She’s been monitoring my weight since

I was in the seventh grade

I tell her I don’t want to be a model

She says I need to lose pounds

I started to make myself throw up just

so my mother would leave me alone.

My best friend shoots Ritalin to lose weight

Everyone pretends they have ADD

You get extra time on the tests

and you do better which will

get you into an Ivy League college

I feel absolutely alone in the world

The things my mother would like to change about me:

I’m disorganized

I wear big boots in summer

Have grungy vintage clothing

I listen to weird loud music

I feel a connection with Sylvia Plath

I cut my own hair

Hacked my bangs into pieces

She flipped out

She wants me in Ralph Lauren sweaters

My boyfriend went through rough times

He has his own blog

Yesterday he got grounded

He spray-painted a bomb on his bedroom wall

His parents got divorced

He hates his new apartment

He’s very angry

Angry at his father for leaving his mother

Angry at the new stupid place where they are living

He is not the most handsome boy

But he’s troubled

Like me.

I don’t know you

I’m pregnant

Listen to me

I’m gay and I am not the devil

You can trust me

I know you are unhappy

I don’t want to keep taking care of you

Do you like sex?

Do you have it a lot?

Why do you hate your body?

Don’t read my journal

Read my journal

Do you think I’m smart?

How come you never tell me?

You’re my role model

I wish you liked Dad

I miss Dad

I want you to be happy

Despite years of evaluation in this area, there is
no evidence to date that abstinence-only
education delays teen sexual activity. Moreover,
recent research shows that abstinence-only
strategies may deter contraceptive use among
sexually active teens, increasing their risk
of unintended pregnancy and STIs.

Six in ten American teens have sex before
they leave high school, and 730,000 teenage
girls will get pregnant this year.

     
(Teenage girl sucking her thumb)

My boyfriend told me to stop sucking my thumb.

He said it was weird and it made me look like a baby.

I never thought about a baby.

It happened fast

and it didn’t feel that great.

Well, it almost felt good.

But then he/Carlos stopped

right when it was about to begin for me.

I knew I wasn’t supposed to be doing it.

I was practicing abstinence

but to be honest, I didn’t really know how to apply it.

’Cause once the kissing starts …

I am tired a lot.

My mother thinks I’m doing drugs.

I could never tell her.

She is super-Catholic.

Sometimes I picture it like a new little friend

and we could talk about stuff

and maybe even later she could help me.

But that is really far off

and right now I don’t even have a job or an idea

about what I would do.

I wouldn’t be attacking it or anything.

I would just be removing it.

I wouldn’t hurt it,

just put it someplace else.

It is not a person really.

It’s a problem

getting bigger and bigger.

My girlfriend Juicy told me to do the right thing.

Just imagine, she said, if your mama had done that to you.

Well, then I wouldn’t have a problem growing inside me

and I wouldn’t want to kill myself.

I like school.

I want to be an important person.

I told Juicy, it’s not a baby.

It’s a maybe.

I dreamed the other night that I took it

out to look at it.

It was really cute and the size of my thumbnail.

It looked like one of those stickers I put on my notebook

with the smiley face.

I tried to put it back in

but this nurse was there.

She looked just like J Lo

except she had really bad hair

like me.

She was all nasty and told me it

was too late

and why’d I take it out ‘cause

it was none of my business.

Maybe it means the baby’s dead.

That makes me sad

and a little relieved.

I mean I would like to meet her.

I think she might have my face.

I hope she doesn’t have my hair and thighs.

I don’t really even know Carlos so well.

I mean he’s got great clothes

and knows all the rappers—

songs that is.

But he could have craziness in his family

and then this problem would turn into a crazy person

and then I would have to spend my whole life

taking care and worrying that he didn’t end up in jail

or paying rent while he was just staring off into space eating Big Macs all day.

My mother says

if you take a life you go to hell.

But I am already in hell.

I don’t even know if I like babies.

I like the baby clothes.

They’re all soft and shit, and the little baby shoes

and hats.

I could dress her all nice

but then she would be crying

and not stop crying

and I really wouldn’t like that.

She doesn’t speak to a boy at all

Has morals

Tells the truth even if she pisses people off

Respectable

Doesn’t argue

Polite

Quiet

She brings her homework with her

Doesn’t step out of the line

Follows her parents in everything

Even if she disagrees

Goes to church every Sunday

Stays in on the weekends

Doesn’t know more than she should

Asks questions even if she knows the answers

In Africa, about three million girls a year are
at risk for female genital mutilation—
more than 8,000 per day.

Don’t look from the window

Don’t talk to other girls

Don’t go out

Don’t wear tight pants

Don’t wear pants at all

My father kicks me out of the nest

My mother keeps me in

Don’t shout

Don’t talk

Clean. Scrub. Arrange.

Don’t expect praise

Don’t fool around

Don’t go out

Don’t meet Rania

Rania’s brother tried to propose to you

Don’t talk to any girls while you’re selling biscuits

Don’t be long

Don’t say no

It’s time to get engaged

Don’t stand on the balcony

Don’t go to the dreams program

Don’t go late by yourself to the pharmacy

even if you’re sick

Don’t talk to your friends

Don’t worry it’s a regular visit

Don’t fight it, the razor

Wake up

Don’t cry, he needed to cut it off

Don’t look for it

It would have made you crazy

and out of control.

My father hates girls

He says they used to bury them

when they were born.

No value

No personality

This is not your house

You can’t go out

Clean. Scrub. Arrange.

Don’t imagine more

Don’t stand on the balcony

Don’t lose your virginity

Don’t look from the window

My mother keeps me in

My father kicks me out

My brother beats me up

The doctor cuts me off

Don’t. Don’t.

I want to read

so I can read the Koran

read the signs in the street

know the number of the bus

I’m supposed to take

when I one day leave this house.

     
(Darkness. Two girls lying on the floor, only a flashlight.)

GIRL 1

Would you rather be alone or be with a guy who stutters?

GIRL 2

Why do you always want to do this?

GIRL 1

Just answer. Would you rather be with someone famous who dumps you or never be with someone famous at all? Would you rather be called a slut or fat?

GIRL 2

This is a stupid game.

GIRL 1

Just answer.

GIRL 2

They’re stupid questions.

GIRL 1

Would you rather be blind, deaf, or dumb?

GIRL 2

None of the above.

GIRL 1

Would you rather get pregnant accidentally or get dumped?

GIRL 2

Usually they happen at the same time.

GIRL 1

Would you rather be called a dyke or a bitch?

GIRL 2

Dyke, definitely.

GIRL 1

Okay, I’ll give you a nice one ’cause you answered. Would you rather be the most brilliant or most beautiful?

GIRL 2

Both.

GIRL 1

Pick one.

GIRL 2

Most sarcastic.

GIRL 1

Would you rather get HPV or give HPV?

GIRL 2

Ew!

GIRL 1

Answer!

I was raised Catholic

I found Christ

Then I found Stephanie

I always find a good thing

Then I find something better.

I’m not gay

I’m not straight

I’m Stephanied.

I didn’t do anything if she didn’t do it

I played house with her

I held her hand all the time

Everyone disappeared from my world

She wore jelly sandals

She had long black hair

She hated kickball

I hated kickball

She loved super-cinnamon gum

I loved it too

Once when I was in her bedroom

I snuck into her drawers

I stole her T-shirt

It was soft and it smelled like her

Nothing was good unless she liked it

Nothing was fun unless she wanted to do it with me

She said you have to give your money to anyone who needs it

She said it was important to rehearse for dying

We used to lie still and hold our breath

She said we should practice kissing

She told me to put my tongue in her mouth

It tastes better when you take your time

She said you can only love someone

if they’re your friend.

I’m not gay

I’m not straight

I’m Stephanied.

Research has shown that girls involved with sports in
high school are less likely to engage in risky sexual
behaviors such as high numbers of partners, inconsistent
or no use of birth control, or engaging in sex while
under the influence of drugs or alcohol.

The decrease in girls’ participation in risky sexual behavior
associated with sports involvement is partly due to a delay
in sexual initiation and partly to social-psychological
dynamics such as enhanced self-confidence, a less
stereotypically feminine gender role identity, and/or a
stronger desire to avoid teenage pregnancy.

There is a whistle
and I know I am supposed
to move go begin dribble
Whistle
The ball hot in my hands
burns
The clock is on
I begin my journey down the court
down this alley in my brain
Each game
I weave from end to end
It’s not the other girls
who are in my way
I am fast
I have the moves
There are far more deadly obstacles
that keep me from the hoop
Blind pass