The Auspicious Outcast

Once a blessing

Dropped from heaven’s palm,

A soft bundle of laughter,

Of promise and prayer,

Placed gently

Into a family’s arms,

A little princess.

Years gather quietly.

Care turns into calculation.

“Start saving, she’s growing.”

Love learns conditions,

Affection wears caution,

And protection slowly

Builds its fences.

Better guarded today

Than sorry tomorrow.

Her life is drafted

On society’s tongue,

On the trembling scale

Of “What will people say?”

Her wings are folded

In the name of safety,

Her voice trimmed

In the name of love.

“All for your good,”

They assure her.

Her worth is measured.

Degree or career,

Not for her dreams,

But for a stranger’s approval.

Polish the resume,

Polish the smile.

Maybe a smaller waist,

A prettier picture,

A softer voice.

Hope she is chosen.

Then arrives

The ceremonial goodbye.

Silk-clad and smiling,

She is given away

Like a prayer answered

For everyone but herself.

Relief floats in the air.

The burden has found

Another roof.

A few rituals later,

She is spoken of

In the past tense.

She enters a new home

On rehearsed hope.

“This is your family now.

This is where you belong.”

And she believes it,

Until time loosens truth.

No matter how she pours herself

Into their customs,

Their meals,

Their grief,

Their joy,

She remains

The woman who arrived

With luggage and lineage.

Loved, perhaps,

But never rooted.

And when storms find her

And her heart turns backward,

She walks toward

Her childhood doors

Seeking refuge.

Only to realise

She is no longer

“Their own,”

But another woman

From a different family.

Perspectives change,

Relations shift,

And everything she says or does

Is quietly measured.

Her room repurposed,

Her presence visiting,

Her stay temporary.

Two homes,

Yet no homeland.

A guest in one,

A memory in another.

A burden here,

A responsibility there,

Such is the journey

Of the girl once called

A blessing.

So she lingers,

At thresholds.

Neither in nor out,

Learning the art

Of half-belonging.

She smiles at doorways,

But her heart knows:

The world celebrates her arrival,

Yet rarely offers her

A place to stay.

The auspicious child,

The perpetual outcast...

'The Woman'.

- AeVey J 

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