There is depth because there are vast heights. They were made by rifts in and collisions of earth that created junctions and chasms in the crust, and mountains in the sky.
Last night, I shared at the women’s circle in front of 21 other vibrant women about my history of sexual abuse. I felt hot and high. It felt raw and real, and wicked. In the moments the words spilled from my lips I truly realized that any feelings of unworthiness or shame were melting. I saw them for what they are, those feelings. They only serve to protect and even justify the men who stole away my sense of safety and innocence, so when I perpetuate the shame, I agree there IS something wrong with me. When I am afraid to speak about it, for fear of how I’ll be treated, I agree to stay quiet and hidden away, to keep THEIR secrets safe. Through that silence I validate the idea that there is something wrong with the victim and no strength in healing. As I spoke I realized how untrue that is.
I felt a rumbling from deep within. I was ready to let it out because I’ve felt it so many times before, and felt confident I could contain it, though it made me nervous. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t pain. It was the power and strength of a woman that’s done the work to heal. And even though it felt hard to get the words out, and there was an element of worry that I’d be judged, I felt more power around this issue than I ever had before. I felt a certainty in my wholeness and femininity that could not be stolen or destroyed. I heard strength in my voice and story, like I was outside of myself for the moment.
I want women to know they can heal. They can grow beyond their pain and make the legend of their healing be heard without fear of more loss. They can be free of the ideas imposed upon them that they are somehow broken or wrong. The feeling of support in that deep state of vulnerability, to me, is a testament to the power of a woman, and her ability to heal as an individual and part of the collective. And isn’t that what we were all gathered for? For our own healing, our personal narrative, and how that fit into the collective story of women in our communities and all over the world? I personally have punished myself for too long for things that I perceived as weakness and a source of embarrassment. I’ve blamed myself for my sexuality, like there was something wrong with it. I look at my body, my nature, my ideas, sensuality, sexuality, confidence, and I AM PROUD OF WHO I AM, even with the scars.
Living is our birthright and healing is our journey. Through the stories and experiences we help to guide and heal each other. In that naked and vulnerable space we can find a source of power, inspiration, and creative potency. I choose to rewrite my narrative. A theme we worked with under the full moon last night was courage. I spoke of “creative empowerment” being my words for 2019, and that I needed the courage to speak my truth from a space of creation and authenticity to make that real for me. I shared a bit of my story to let women know that they can ache and still stand in their power; that creative empowerment is sacral, sensual, sexual, and sacred — and outside the expectation and judgement of others.
Life is art is life. Raw and wild.
Cultivating inner space
An intention for freedom
To break down structures over and over again
And in the continuous reformation
Watch as new functions dictated by form arise
The emergence of which are buds
They signal the bloom to come
The spring that always follows the long winter
Rides in on the breath, and
The depth to which we breathe
Will be how much we purify
The highs and lows cease to conquer
And longer are the spaces in between
Like dreams, they stretch and bend
Unending is the lengthening of time
The mind makes sense of what’s unseen.