happy birthday

By Lena DiBiasio

A poem written on the eve of my seventeenth birthday after realizing what womanhood might mean for me.

i smoothed at my wrinkles this morning,
globbing moisturizer onto my fine lines
and rubbing in outward motions. 
pulling the wrinkles away, pulling, pulling, pulling.
my father let out a belly laugh like he does on sunday mornings and told me
that i am too young to care about such things
leave that to your mother, he said with a smile.
i did not smile back. 
i have a watch from my grandmother 
to mollie—you’re finally a woman, happy seventeenth
i wore that watch every day though it could not tell time
last week, i took it off and let it rest.
i turn seventeen next month. i am not ready, i am not a woman. 
i needed to do so many things, be someone else, before i became a woman
my heart speeds up at the thought, and i know my time has run out
i complained about this to my father, who grinned with his crooked teeth like he does on a sunday evening
and proclaimed that i have so much life ahead of me
my mother sat silent.
i have no time left. i haven’t fallen in love or found a passion or cleared up my skin or found real friends or decided what kind of a person i am
and i think knowing what kind of a person you are is mighty important if you are going to be a woman now, not a girl. 
if i am a woman as of my seventeenth birthday, then i will no longer be me. 
i’ll have children and soon i’ll forget that i like the beastie boys just like my mother did and i’ll concede to adolescent whines and let them play their horrible pop music instead of what i really, truly like. because i won’t really truly like anything anymore because i’ll be a mother and mothers can only be mothers. 
my father still likes the beastie boys.
i’m scared to be a woman, i can’t be seventeen yet because i haven’t grown up and yet already my time is gone. 
i apply moisturizer before bed, and the small golden watch laughs from its drawer, mocking me. 

Process

To write this poem, I pulled my old watch out of my drawer to remind myself of the inscription on the back. I was inspired to write this after a pair session with my mentor where we talked about motherhood, and what it’s like to be a woman growing into her own. I always feel a landslide of emotions on my birthday, mostly negative, so this poem is a reflection of that.