Who am I?

Writing poetry again.  Our second assignment for this semester's class was to write a poem, using personal experiences, "about your view of/complaint about gender roles or differences." I wrote a poem spanning roughly forty years of my life, starting with my first marriage. Heck, I could have started another ten or fifteen years back. My whole life has been a series of whiplashes jigging from one side to another around what a woman is supposed to be. Reading the poem, I feel dizzy. It's title is "Who am I?" and I really do not know. I have paid far too much attention to "supposed to," whether to defy it or obey it. I cannot seem to learn to forget about it and go my way. Making a choice, I soon come to doubt it and kick away.

I've just spent two hours watching "The L Word" and "Big Love," two solid hours of nonstop petty bickering. Every few months I get into a state about being married to Grumpy, but at least we don't bicker. In fact, it's a calm and peaceful life. We are nice to each other, sincerely nice. Yet I can't stop doubting it. But getting older has slowed me down. I don't kick away so fast. I wait for the feeling to pass. And it does.