The Name They Call Her

Always said with venom

Always intended to punish

“How dare you?!” it asked her

insinuating that she was uppity


a ball breaker

to draw a circle around her body

declare loudly “Mine!”


Was she 12 the first time

that she had been called bitch?

Or was it 16

when she tired of boys and men

acting like her body was theirs

to look at

comment on

hold down





Tired of adult women

telling her to be





a “good” sport

She was NOT a good sport


The rage became a




that she learned to yield

much too often

on her own flesh


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved


  1. Wow. How effortlessly have you conveyed the plight of every girl’s life. It’s true, I remember exactly when was the first time I realised I was being objectified and my body was being coveted. I was too young then to have to deal with this knowledge. What horrifies me even more are the number of instances that must have escaped my notice before that age due to my inability to understand such thoughts and advances. When was it that my pure, innocent childhood was unceremoniously ripped apart. Because, no one taught me to identify those signs. I learnt. From experience. Which can only mean that every incident left a lasting impression on my adolescent mind. Sadly enough, I’m still dealing with it. Still coming to terms with the subsequent trauma and ravaging endured by my mind and body. Still dealt with mental health issues. Still trying to make sense of it all in a world that would provide no answers, no reprieve. It’s women like you, Christine, that make us feel we’re not alone in this journey or in our fight. You reaffirm our belief in the fact that my body isn’t someone else’s to own. It’s mine and mine alone. Unapologetically and, definitely, unashamedly.
    Lots of love and respect for you for putting such feelings into words. I truly admire you. Here’s to not being Good Sports!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I am in awe of you, Madam. Having gone through the same, I can understand how hard it must have been. If you’re ever feeling low, lonely or unsure (because even the strongest of us can sometime have lapses) I hope you will remember that you will always find a friend in me, ever ready with a willing ear to listen to you or to even share your silence by providing company (I would have thrown a glass of wine or hot chocolate into the mix too but we live in different countries). Love 💕


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