Dear Miss Belle : an open letter to the Southern Woman

Dear Miss Belle,
We are quite acquainted you and I. You were the standard by which I lived by. Boutique Princess, Pageant Queen, Housewife Intern; you were the elusive idol I reached for but never quite touched. You weighed heavy on my soul because you were it's opposite. With every coat of mascara and hairspray I was reminded of what I had to do each morning to measure up to you. I have always just longed to soak up the sunbeams peaking through oak leaves, but you taught me that I always had to be prepared for the spotlight. Your house must be perfect, your roots hidden just like that dirty laundry everyone has. Your waste size a hold over from corsets and bustles , another image unreachable. You taught me that my only fate was to marry the first man I could bait with my pouty lips and coated lashes. My job in the church is to cook for their mamma and them and to keep silent except for gossip time afterwards in the back. You taught me that I had to work that assertiveness out of my system, so I could make a man feel like a man. You taught me that my place in the home was BEHIND a man not besidehim. Your painted lips whispered to me in a sugar sweet drawl "Honey, you look a mess!"
I face you today, hair gone back to it's roots, no longer fighting to rival Carrie Underwood. My face is clear from it's daily paintjob, and my feet are playing in the dirt. My womanhood is no longer defined by your standards. I don't wear camo and you'll never see me huntin' with my daddy. You'll never see me being passive and non descript behind any man. I love fashion....I love hair, but sometimes there's something special about seeing my mother's freckles on my face. I love cooking, but I also love changing my own oil and getting dirty. I'm not going to wait on a man to open my door, but I am going to sweetly thank him when he honours me thus. Jesus loves me this I know...so I don't need your approval.
I Will thank you for Nashville fashion, my twang, cooking skills and my manners, but keep the rest. I am a woman because I have the gift of femininity. I don't have to meet the requirements because I already have them. I rebuke the lies you tell women. I rebuke the idea a woman is not in control of her life and ideas. I rebuke your patriarchal society. I am a boss and a lady, and you can't tell me otherwise.
Cordially,
A Southern Alpha Lady