By Ruby Hanlon

This poem explores the fragmented inner consciousness of a 19th-century woman struggling with rigid domestic expectations, uncovering the unspoken pressures of becoming the ideal housewife.

Smile.

To be a woman

perfect,

pretty,

modest,

but not too modest.

Smile. 

No, don’t stop smiling.

You might come across as rude.

Skinny.

Tiny waist.

Pull the strings-

no, tighter.

You shouldn’t be able to breathe. 

Your body must conform to the corset, 

not the other way round.

A body.

A puppet.

Pull my strings.

Tighter.

No, tighter-

I can’t breathe.

Makeup.

Plump lips.

Long eyelashes.

A doll.

Straight back.

Posture.

Reading?

The mind should be silent,

not full of thoughts.

What are these then?

Instructions.

A recipe.

Laundry,

cooking,

cleaning,

again,

and again,

and again.

Pain.

Period.

Disgusting.

Smile.

No, don’t stop.

Keep cleaning.

Give children to him.

A what?

A Husband.

Dreams?

Women can’t afford to dream.

Too much work to do.

Husband’s work.

You do housework,

children do schoolwork. 

University?

A man’s world.

You don’t belong in it. 

I said,

Smile.