I am Katherine: Taming of the Shrew

I have lied to myself and allowed myself to be beaten. I am not who I once was out of fear and out hunger and I wish not to feel the agony of exhaustion on my brow any longer. I now wear my mask of gentility and servitude to please my husband who I have been sold to like cattle. Be silent like a painting. Only offering beauty. Be soft like a quilt of wool so that my body may wrap ‘round my husband so he may do what he wishes to me in our marriage bed. How I loathe who I have become yet I have them all fooled. I walk into the dining hall and look down my nose at those women who acted such as I did. I ask them to bow at their husband’s feet. As a servant? A bride? Naye.  As a stone that he may walk upon. A feather in his cap. A jewel in his crown. I have yet to hear a stone or feather or a jewel speak back. So I hold my tongue and my temper and I give of myself to my husband, Petruchio who blindly stares unknowing of my masquerade. Don’t touch me so harshly ‘round my head, my sweet. The ribbon may fall and my true self shine through.