Chocolate and decadent meals are typically the focus at this time of the year. If not to celebrate Valentine’s Day, then to self-medicate against the “winter blues.” Ironically, at the same time, social media and advertising campaigns remind us that spring is around the corner and we should begin working on our “summer bodies.” While these marketing campaigns may address men, they target women, causing most to feel self-conscious about their bodies and uncomfortable in their own skin.

What if I want to swim in the Death by Chocolate molten lava cake AND feel good in my summer clothes? Can’t a girl have both? I could get all caught up in the ridiculous societal influences, expectations and norms that have set a new standard for feminine beauty. I can hop on my soapbox and remind the world that what is seen on TV, Instagram, Snapchat, etc., is not real—rather a synthesis of filters and trick photography that is devoid of anything related to self-love. Or, I could simply share one of Maya Angelou’s poems with my sisters from other misters with the hope that we all can find the phenomenal woman within.

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.

I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.

I’m a woman
Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.

When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.

I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.

When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Allpoetry.com/phenomenal-woman