Sister, not Cister. Part 1

At a slumber party, my friend asked if it would be okay if she joined us in the hot tub.
Note: After I sent this to her, she told me it wasn't what she meant, so I wrote another.

You ask if I know
And if I mind.
As if being female is a club
And I’m the bouncer who gets to decide
Whether you’re invited in
Or sent to the end of the line
To hang with the men
And I feel you brace
Hands resting in place on the uncertain velvet rope
Smile painted on your face
Unwilling to hope
Reassuring ME that whatever I say will be fine, no problem
Because this isn’t the first time
You’ve had to check in with new friends
And sometimes the answer is no, I’m sorry, but no.
I’m just not comfortable
With that.
So you hold your self, your pride close
Ready to pack it back up and try again
To forget that there won’t be an end
Or a last time
That for you, and your lifetime
This is part of your script
Because your ticket has been gripped too tightly in fists too hard pressed
Ink streaked with tears and sweat, so it gets hard to read
and you’ve had to rewrite and weave your own
Stripped down, built up version of woman and
It rips my heart open
Because who am I to deny you your place
When you saw the bullshit and hate
that comes along with tits and people’s freedom to dismiss
Your voice
And it wasn’t even a choice
Because this is what we are
We are women
Hear us roar
And I wish I could do more and more and more
Than simply validate
Let you know that gatekeeping
Is bullshit
and that adding WO
means “whoa
hell, yes
you can sit with us
and reap the benefits of sisterhood"
your Fe female fee
is paid in full
and I am honored that you
want to sit here, with me.