What happens when girls are taught to disappear—and women choose to remember. A visceral poem about perfectionism, performance, inherited silence, and the long journey of reclaiming voice and body. For every woman taught to disappear—who is now learning to rise.
This poem is a breathtaking, raw, and deeply evocative exploration of identity, shame, and the inherited burden of silence. The way you thread the experience of disappearing—first to please, then to survive—creates a poignant narrative arc that is both painfully relatable and profoundly empowering. The first line: ''This is for every girl who was taught to disappear gracefully''— is chilling! This is a poem that doesn’t just tell a story; it breathes, it aches, it heals. Thank you for sharing this deeply moving piece.
You’re so welcome. ❤️ Writing has this incredible power to heal, even when it means reopening old wounds. Your courage in sharing this piece is truly inspiring, and I feel so honored to have witnessed it. Thank you for letting me walk alongside your words. Keep letting them breathe. 🌿✨
I have a post scheduled for tomorrow that is on the topic. These issues are near and dear to my heart such that my life's work has been centered around them. (I have a post coming out tomorrow on the topic).
Thank you so much for reading and for your words. That’s exactly what I hoped to convey. That disappearing wasn’t just something we did, but something we inherited. Unlearning it feels like rewriting an ancient curriculum, page by page, with our truth.
I resonate with this poem on many levels, learning to be something other, scanning the room for approval, body becoming a problem, but also as a teacher I see the gender dance played out with students everyday. The labels have changed but it’s still a curriculum everyone has to learn and pass, unfortunately. Beautiful work!
This poem is a breathtaking, raw, and deeply evocative exploration of identity, shame, and the inherited burden of silence. The way you thread the experience of disappearing—first to please, then to survive—creates a poignant narrative arc that is both painfully relatable and profoundly empowering. The first line: ''This is for every girl who was taught to disappear gracefully''— is chilling! This is a poem that doesn’t just tell a story; it breathes, it aches, it heals. Thank you for sharing this deeply moving piece.
Thank you so much, Mymy, for this beautiful reflection. Your words truly moved me… 🥹
Writing this piece felt like opening an old wound with trembling hands—and letting it breathe for the first time.
To know it resonated so deeply means more than I can say.
Thank you for seeing it. For holding space for this story.
I’m so grateful for your presence here. ❤️
You’re so welcome. ❤️ Writing has this incredible power to heal, even when it means reopening old wounds. Your courage in sharing this piece is truly inspiring, and I feel so honored to have witnessed it. Thank you for letting me walk alongside your words. Keep letting them breathe. 🌿✨
Thank you for walking alongside my words with such presence Mymy.
May we both keep letting the truth breathe. 🌷
My pleasure Ariadne 🌷
🤗❤️
Subscribing now—your words touch that quiet place where so many of us live.
I’m just beginning to write publicly, exploring what it means to grow up inside secrecy, compliance, shame, and the silencing of female truth.
I write about the voice inside—the one we were taught to ignore or distrust.
The one that whispers when we pretend.
The one that screams when we stay silent.
If you’re writing from that place, too—here’s where I’m laying it bare:
rosecalder.substack.com
With voice, with nerve,
—Rose Calder
Subed you and excited to read your work.
🙏🏼
We are the good girls reclaiming our fire — the fire that has always lived within us, ready to rise and gently burn away all that no longer belongs.
Yes, exactly. 🔥
The fire was never gone, only buried.
And now we rise with it, not to scorch, but to alchemize.
Honored to be reclaiming alongside you.
❤️
🥹🫂
This writing is spot on in terms of the societal/family pressures that so many girls and women face.
All of it. From appearance to invisible to reclamation.
"she is not too much.
she is not too loud.
she is not too soft.
she is not too late"
So much needs to change. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you so much Christine for reflecting that back.
Yes—all of it still lives in so many of us. The silencing, the shape-shifting… and, thankfully, the reclamation too.
Your words remind me I’m not alone in naming it.
Here’s to the change we’re all helping usher in.
I have a post scheduled for tomorrow that is on the topic. These issues are near and dear to my heart such that my life's work has been centered around them. (I have a post coming out tomorrow on the topic).
Thanks fot sharing that Christine. Looking forward to reading it.
I'll share a link to it? I write a lot about these topics.
Yes please
Beautifully written. I like how you used the curriculum of disappearance as the passed down traits we work to undo to become our true selves.
Thank you so much for reading and for your words. That’s exactly what I hoped to convey. That disappearing wasn’t just something we did, but something we inherited. Unlearning it feels like rewriting an ancient curriculum, page by page, with our truth.
I’m so glad it spoke to you. 🌷
I resonate with this poem on many levels, learning to be something other, scanning the room for approval, body becoming a problem, but also as a teacher I see the gender dance played out with students everyday. The labels have changed but it’s still a curriculum everyone has to learn and pass, unfortunately. Beautiful work!
It’s saddening to acknowledge that the curriculum is still there—just wearing different clothes.
I’m really moved that this resonated with you, both personally and through your lens as a teacher.
Grateful to be in this conversation with you Michelle.