Window of Humanity

These hands are mine. They tell a story. It is not a story you have ever heard, nor will you ever hear it again.

They are not apparently woman’s hands, but may not be overly masculine either. My whole body may tell this same story, but that is a story for another time.

I have these slender fingers, I use them to my advantage. Tippity tap on my piano they go. My professor once told me they were made to touch those keys. I’m not so sure. People with much shorter fingers use them much more advantageously than I do, but its all a matter of opinion.

This scar on my finger is from a partially broken drinking glass. A mere accident to most, but signifies my servitude to parental units over so many years; the battle scars of slavery to a slave driver with no whip (although I’m sure he would not be opposed to it).

My hidden calloused fingers are indicative of my trials, hard work.  People do not generally know the things I have gone through, but when they shake my hand, it is a small piece of me given away. A hardness not apparent on the surface.

The small burn scars on the back of my hand are pain. Pain through years, although I tell people they are scars from cooking. I have worked many years to overcome this pain, and do not want it so relevant to my existence as I have made it. I may still carry the same burdens of this pain, but it manifests itself more figuratively. I wish these scars were hidden like my callouses.

The last thing I see are my painted nails. Some symbol of femininity that I so desperately cleave to, although it is chipped, and never perfect. I will never be perfect as a woman, although I do not wish to be a man. My feminine energy is more compatible with its mate, masculine, so I never really let it flow like it should. I guess this attempt at beauty is flawed like the rest of them. It tells the same story as the rest of my hands. Flawed. Imperfect. But mine.

Every person has their hands, and their own unique story. This is my story. Eyes are the window to the soul. Hands are the window of humanity.