Ragne's Abyss

Objects and Women

A thought has just occurred to me. Why is the feminine body so heavily demonized? A body that is loved and can create life is demonized and made the villain in society. I also don’t understand why a woman loving her body enough to embrace it through clothing is seen as “slutty”. To love your body enough to showcase it is a beautiful thing. Especially in a world where society pins women against each other and forces us to believe that our bodies need to look a certain way in order to be appreciated—or simply looked at. The world is hypocritical. There are beauty standards but the moment a woman meets them, they are shamed for how they look and for who they are. A huge example of this would be the Kardashians. There’s so much hate surrounding them and the majority of the hate is due to their appearance. At the end of the day, they are a group of women who felt they had to succumb to the beauty standards of America in order to obtain the luxuries of life they desired. They too are victims to the hypocrisy of the world. There’s far more words in the English dictionary to describe a “jezebel” rather than a “rake”. I feel that that is no coincidence. Women are seen as diamonds, objects to be praised when they obey the rules and regulations of societal morals. Yet, they’re also seen as the worst of humankind when they fail to fit standards. Regardless of the type of woman, their status and how they gained their status, they are still seen as an object. Whether that object is a trophy to be praised and flaunted or a toy to be played with, we are still objects in the eyes of men and ourselves. It’s so easy to feed into playing the part of the object when we have been organized to do so. We do it unconsciously, some even choose to do it consciously. It’s twisted and unfortunate that even the “purest” woman is still an object, a diamond to be shined and shown to the world; “Look, everyone, at how amazing and great this woman is! She is a treasure amongst women”. It is beautiful to be cherished, but not to the extent of getting new earrings or a new handbag. I, personally, wish to be appreciated. Appreciated for my being, who I am—my good traits and the habits that need work. For, I am human; I’m near imperfect compared to perfection. I think what makes women so beautiful is how alike we are yet so different, along with our difference to men biologically. Disregarding society’s idea of what being a woman is, disregarding the aesthetics of femininity, women are so beautiful due to their biological and psychological make-up. There is no simpler way that I could think of to write that. Women are beautiful creatures, in every form. The fact that we are human is a picture no artist can mimic because it is too beautiful to recreate. I feel that that is enough. The extra layers to beauty only bring forth more confusion rather than clarity.

Black Women and Femininity

A very known phenomenon that I am familiar with is the masculinization of black women. Heavily, they are seen as more aggressive and less feminine, especially when compared to other races of women. I’ve seen this topic discussed numerous times, mainly through short articles or video essays—but there’s a specific trait when it comes to femininity in black women that I haven’t seen mentioned yet. Whenever I search up “girly black girls” on pinterest, I’m met with a slew of pink and highly feminine black women. All of these black women have silk presses or weaves. Their hair is always straight. I have yet to see a black woman that is categorized as “feminine” with an afro or “kinky” hair. Where are the tight curls and the frizzy texture that comes with being a black woman? This has made me realize that amongst the black community, unconsciously, we glamorize and feed into the white idolization of America. We are on a protest to showcase that Black women are feminine but through this protest we are dressing ourselves like the white woman. We have no features but the ones that we cannot change to showcase what it is to be a feminine Black woman. The protest isn’t “black women can be feminine like white women”, it is “Black women are feminine”. One thing that I find to be wrong about a lot of pro-black political campaigns is that we are always putting white people on this imaginary pedestal. We, as a community, are always trying to be just as good as something else. The approach is correct but the mindset is not. Black people, especially women, aren’t just as good as what society wants us to be—we are great, period. We shouldn’t be competing and yet we are stuck in this frame of mind; through politics, through day-to-day. I want to see Black women own categories without dressing like anything other than black.

This was just a thought I had while scrolling through Pinterest. I felt eager to write about it and share it on the blog. Thank you for reading.

Poems: Sheep Coils Submerged in Oils

07

My hair, with its sheep coils

Submerged in dark oils

Never to unravel, in its threatening form

Protecting itself from ivory storms

My crown, never to be shaken

My skin, mimicked by surroundings mirrors

Used by lands beyond my own

Soil I had never known

My nose, oh my nose

Tainted by the tongue and thrown to the ground

Oh, how my nose stirs more anger than my crown

My life, bits and pieces torn off for use

Used only when needed, never fully worn

Like a half-top, still showing some skin

My hair, my crown, my skin, my nose.

Used only when needed, never fully worn.

Poems: Green fields, wounds unhealed

05

The green fields of America leave me stranded

Chasing after a life I can not manage

With the aspirations too high to climb

I’m left in a loop, a circle, a pie

Of uncertainty of the future to come

With unfulfilled promises from the ton

I receive small emoluments

From masters who earn the country’s wages

As the land is embarking on stages

Stages of torment, destruction, starvation

Disregarding our proclamation

Erasing history and invoking material change

For their benefit, for their gain

As we are left searching for scraps

In a country that relabels our maps

Working for the one that controls

On land, on soil, they stole.

Poems: Nature

04

Green stems, brown bark

Amber hues and fire sparks

How beautiful nature can be

Coming in all shades, hues, and colors

How strong and resilient she is, our mother

Yellow petals, blue skies

It’s arctic reflection shown in our eyes

Red fires, sapphire storms

It need not to be adorned

For its beauty speaks for itself

As you can see often on our shelves

How beautiful nature can be

Poems: Rain, Rain, Don’t go away

03

Rain, how gentle you are

The crystal drops you leave amongst my car

Tiny gifts that sparkle like stars

The happiness you bring leaves me drunken

Far more than any bar

Oh, how gentle you are

But how harsh you can be

With the cold that you bring, leaving me to freeze

Low temperatures force me to sneeze

So strong that I no longer feel warmth from my sleeves

How harsh you can be, my rain

Our rain

I hope my words don’t leave you in vain

For your strident and tender traits bring beauty

Beauty that has no choice but to leave a stain

A stain amongst the brains of those who see you

You create the new and recover the broken

Healing what has brittled is your token

Your gift, your power

You heal trees and almost every flower

But even more so, you heal myself

Every time that I hear you

You make me anew

How harsh you can be

But how gentle you are

Rain

Poems: Valentines

02

Love comes in so many shapes and sizes

With baskets full of gifts and prizes

The prize of having someone to love

Whether romantic or not

The gift of having someone who loves you

Loves you enough to endure your pain

Genuine love in no search for gain

Love that brings tranquility to the soul

Love that eradicates the hate you may behold

What a gift that is to the ones who find it

A prize to the ones who deserve it, even if it doesn’t feel deserved

Love comes in so many shapes and sizes

With baskets full of gifts and prizes

But to us all, love is a present

A present meant to be opened and accepted

Poem 1: Thanksgiving

Greens, ham, potatoes

Aromas from my youth, they’re fleeting

Turkey, mac & cheese, yams

Why doesn’t it smell the same, my favorite meals?

The kitchen table’s empty but all the plates are full

Sweet potato pie, the kind my mother makes

The only thing that’s warm, sweet, savory

Everything else matches the room

Soul food, yet it’s spirit is transparent

I hold onto my mothers pie, It’s all I have left

The kitchen table’s empty but all the plates are full

Greens, ham, potatoes, turkey, mac & cheese, yams

They’re gone

Vanished from my present now seen as nostalgic

All that’s left is my mother’s pie

Sweet potato pie

Wabi-Sabi: A search for imperfection

January 30, 2026

4–6 minutes

Ryōan-ji: a temple in Kyoto, Japan. The temple is often used as a reference of ‘wabi-sabi’ due to it’s stained brown and orange tones, as well as its rock garden.

Wabi-Sabi [wabe – sabe] – A Japanese philosophy and aesthetic that finds value in imperfection.

Growing old has made me realize how much the world thrives off of perfectionism. It’s interesting because perfection is non-existent, yet we as humans work so hard to try to achieve it. A word that was created by an imperfect being is now sought after. I too chase after the idea of being perfect. The perfect skin, the perfect teeth, the perfect body, the perfect hair.

What’s even more interesting is the fact that perfection is often attached to external aesthetics; our appearance. We all have an idea of what a perfect person looks like, but perfection doesn’t always make a person attractive. If we’re tying attractiveness to perfection, that would indicate that a lot of people are perfect; that simply isn’t the case. With the never-ending chase to perfection, I commit to avenues I genuinely don’t need to go down.

A recent example I’ve experienced are my braces. I had a gap, which I held onto until I was seventeen. Constantly throughout school, I was often picked on for my gap; the mocking was normally committed by boys.

The gap wasn’t big at all, it was relatively small but the comments made it expand in my mind. It became an insecurity that I felt I needed to fix in order to conquer it. The gap didn’t prohibit me from eating nor did it affect my speech. It was just there and it was different from the beauty standard of perfectly straight and porcelain teeth. So, I ended up getting braces and just recently have I gotten them off. It’s been a year without my gap and now that I’m able to see my teeth without the blockage of braces, I miss it.

I remember one of my closest friends saying, “Why did you get rid of your gap? It’s what made you, you”. Her comment stuck with me. At first I was mad at the comment; I hated the gap so much that anything against removing it had irritated me. Yet, after some thought I started to wonder if my gap had added some form of uniqueness to my appearance. Did my gap really make me, me? Have I gotten rid of one of my beauty marks that had made me, in a way, special?

I know that amongst other people, my gap allowed me to stand out. I never saw the attention as a good thing due to my extreme insecurities about my appearance. Perhaps, the attention was good. My boyfriend always enjoys saying, “It’s all about your perspective”. I haven’t started resonating with that mindset until recently this year. So, I find myself missing my gap. It not only made me look different from others but it also was a gemstone from my childhood. I’ve always known myself to have a gap, it’s extremely unusual seeing myself without one; I even find it a bit uncanny. With the uncomfortable pain my retainer brings me and the constant grappling of uniqueness amongst myself, I’ve had the feeling of wanting to stop using my retainer and allow my teeth to shift back to their natural position.

All morning I’ve been searching for reasonable validation as to why I should stop using my retainer. Unfortunately, everyone else on the internet seems to hate their past smile and enjoys their new one. Nothing I read placed me into the echo chamber I was hoping to indulge in. Guilt is what’s holding me back from saying “YOLO” and never returning to my retainers. The guilt of money is what I speak of.

My mom has put a lot of money into the perfecting of my smile. The thought of her money going to utter waste doesn’t sit right with me. Yet, the feeling of my retainers also doesn’t sit right with me. After a year of having braces, I wanted to be free from any more ‘correcting’. Unfortunately, I didn’t know that I’d be maintaining the corrections for the rest of my life. My personal insecurities about myself have trapped me into a place I’d rather not be in.

Though, to others, they would complain about my view on my now “perfect” teeth. “Why are you complaining? Your teeth are now straight and white”, is what I would assume most would say. Many yearn for ruler-straight teeth; I did too and I must admit, it still looks very appealing. Even with its aesthetics, I don’t wish to maintain it.

I enjoy the thought of being free in all aspects. One specifically would be, being free to be natural; Allowing my teeth to be the way they are without personal judgement. I no longer want to chase after perfection. I want to admire my imperfections. Frankly, the most interesting and unique individuals are filled with imperfections. It is unfortunate that the word “imperfect” or “imperfections” are so heavily demonized. If they weren’t, I probably wouldn’t have gotten braces in the first place.

I don’t blame the world for my decisions and the changes I have done to myself, nor do I blame myself. At the end of the day, it’s my mindset that will allow me to make the right decisions for myself. Yes, the world can heavily influence my thoughts but it is up to me to consume that influence or to disregard it. Imperfection is a beautiful thing, it is exactly what makes us human; besides the biological aspects of course.

It is understandable why the Japanese philosophy “wabi-sabi” is being showcased on the internet. The world also wishes to get out of the race to perfection. Maybe it’s a universal thought, a universal want. I hope to live to a day where I see imperfection rise to the height of perfection.

I seek imperfection.

The Idea of Having Less

The idea of having less makes me feel tranquil. I enjoy looking at photos of rooms that have little to no furniture. Decorations don’t crowd the walls in a bedroom, and there’s only a lamp or two brightening the space. Images like that make me feel good. I’ve tried to dig deep within myself to understand why simplicity brings me a sense of well-being. I’ve come to the realization that spaces that have very little remind me of a blank canvas. There’s no identity attached to a blank canvas. You have the ability to create a new reality every time you enter the room, not physically but emotionally. Empty spaces are clean—there’s very little crowding. It’s like having a clear conscience. The only thing is, it’s difficult to minimize the decoration I have in my living spaces.

I attach emotion to everything that I own, so getting rid of it becomes difficult. I get stuck with clutter flooding the place where I spend most of my time. My bedroom overstimulates me, and I don’t always enjoy staying in it. The same goes for my closet, for my closet is a space I truly hate looking at. That doesn’t mean I’m ungrateful for what I have—I’m extremely grateful. I just have tons of clothes, far too much. I feel guilty for wanting to get rid of some pieces due to my mother and myself putting so much money into my wardrobe.

Though I value bright colors, they can make me irritable. Perhaps it’s the rainbow array of colors that makes my closet overstimulating. It feels like walking into a room covered in rainbows. Positive symbolism can be overpowering when it’s constantly visible. The brightness burns my retinas after so long, just like the sun. Yet, dark and neutral colors sadden me. Imagining a closet full of darkness sounds exhausting to look at. Though that may be admirable to many, having a closet with only black clothing, the thought fills me with misery. I believe that what surrounds me influences my life; so, filling my atmosphere with darkness will only manifest that darkness in my life.

I’m realizing that the things I want are solely for the moment. I believe that I want them but I know that I wouldn’t want them all the time. A less vibrant closet is something I only want for the moment. A fully colorful one is something I admire from afar. An empty room after some time would become too simple for my liking. I would achieve momentary pleasure from a cluttered space. So, how can I know that a want of mine is truly what I desire? Maybe a solution would be to sit on the idea for longer rather than jumping the moment I feel it. Even so, the feeling of change never goes away until it is completed.

The moment the change has been made, I wish to return to what I was or had. Perhaps that is why I overspend so much of my money; a horrible habit I yearn to abolish. I’m unsure of how to stop without holding myself back from material pleasure. For there are many material things that bring me happiness and gratitude. Is happiness long-term? No, but many things in life do not provide long-term happiness. Yet, I shouldn’t place such an intense emotion onto objects that can easily be discarded. I wouldn’t be so attached to my belongings if I didn’t connect them to positive emotions. Unattachment may be the solution after all.

Ragne’s Abyss

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