A Fraction of the Whole

I caught myself looking at each of them
with jealousy.
Here I was surrounded by
women of a higher
status.
One might think I have it backward;
shouldn’t the academic
over-rank the domestic?
And yet, I hold my ground:
we were the minority;
the mostly young,
pursuing our own
careers.
Shouldn’t I be proud
of my drive,
of my courage,
of my strength,
of my intellect,
of my self-imposed
hardness?
Gentle voices
and gentle hearts
surrounded me.
Wives and mothers.
Women.
I don’t feel like a woman;
I feel like a brain
with a vagina,
shoving information into my mind
while my soul
cries
in lonely
starvation.
Who am I,
and what am I doing here?
My name is little girl,
and I am utterly lost.