AUDIO: A woman's worth

Reading of a poem I wrote about motherhood and the value assigned to it...

I wrote this poem earlier this year (was it this year, or was it last?! Time!) during a visit to Bristol, where I also faced some unsettling career news. It was a strange time and I stayed up all night just jotting down all my thoughts on paper, while looking out on this graffiti wall opposite our Air BnB.

I really wanted to capture how scared I felt, thinking of a life with no career, no ‘good looks’ and no children… all things I’d been told added to my value as a woman.

It was actually picked up and published by Popshot magazine and made into their cover story, which was one of the proudest moments of my writing career so far… There’s an irony in there I suppose.

Thanks so much for all your support, I really want this to be a place where I write about traditional grief as well as unexpected grief, which is why my last post was all about motherhood. Please do keep commenting and sharing with others. It really helps.

Pour me a self-care bath
Fill it with the eyeballs of the crowd

My invisibility cloak is gift wrapped and waiting
So I need a stranger to fuck me with one glance

The bloodhounds are sniffing out fresh, underpaid talent
While the Chelsea dermatologist waits with her needle

My Uterus sits empty so my insecurities
Clamp their grubby hands all over my sensible thoughts

You may think I'm pathetic
With my overwhelming need to be liked

But the voices of our generation are all under 30
Then overnight motherhood becomes our most important job

Don't patronise me by telling me it's all bullshit
I'm more than aware of how I've been shaped

I can't help but want to smooth out my Play-Dough body
As I mould myself to match my mistakes