Who Decides

I'm thinking all the things that I said right,
And all the right things that I never said.
Who decides what measures up as success,
And what sums up as a failed story.
Who decides what I should be thinking,
And how much I should be blinking.
Who decides if I should be fed on feminism,
Or how much of my liberal self should disturb my patriotism.
Who decides how red my lipstick should be,
Or for that matter, if there should be any at all.
Who decides that a girl with body hair isn't girly enough,
Or if a man can't grow a beard, isn't manly enough.
Who decides how much I should smile and nod,
And how much I must dare to talk.
Who decides how to be the most of me,
For sure, it doesn't feel like it's me.