When our outside world is filled with chaos it can have a negative impact on our insides. Our bodies know. Intuition is something I believe each of us carries from the moment we are born. I believe women carry it much deeper within us. The world is set up to quiet that intuition and make us question everything about the person we see looking back in the mirror. Intuition keeps us alive, literally and metaphorically.
Why do we lose our passion? Why do we give our bodies to those that do not deserve to even breathe the same air? How often do women end up at home taking care of kids or locked up in a box? How often do women settle? Much more often than a man. I saw this in my upbringing. I heard it during sacrament meetings. For those unfamiliar with Mormon Corp. lingo sacrament meeting was the first of three hours in church. One Sunday really sticks out for me. It occurred around the age of 15/16. That whole first hour (+some) was spent with white, upper middle-class men, telling us (kids, women, families) that while college was a good choice, my true calling in life was to be a wife and a mother. I was to serve my husband and if I wanted to work outside of the home then it should never interfere with that. My husband, whomever he would be, would be my King, my Master. If he were to lose his job, then I would financially provide for my family until he found another job. Then back to the kitchen I would go. I was angry. So when did my anger start? Did it start after my father took my body and made it his own? Was it before that? Did it start when my first short relationship ended after I was cheated on because I was a virgin and not ready to have sex? Did it start when my virginity was coerced from me? Did it start when my high school boyfriend told me I was less worthy of him because I wasn't pure while he himself watched horses fuck women and preyed on young girls online? Did it start when I entered into my first physically abusive relationship? When did my anger start?
I guess I started to look for freedom in men. I don't fucking know. It really doesn't make sense. I spent my whole upbringing being told what to do, how to sit, what to wear, and how to act. Then I dated men who tried to control me and cage me. I was drawn to the familiar. Can I be fixed? How in the fuck do you change what is so deeply engrained?
Who am I? Who in the fuck am I?
The funniest joke (or something) from this all is the fact that two of those church leaders who spoke of being essentially worshipped by their wife and mother of their children, cheated on their wives. I remember when I found this out it made me so sad. It had been years since I'd stepped foot in that neighborhood of toxicity. A ward full of cruelty and judgment. One of those women who was cheated on was my tormenter, the other a woman full of love. A love that I have been reflecting on a lot. I think she stayed with him. Brother Dumas, the stereotypical white man with a wife far out of his league. Why do we stay?
Are we trained? I have often referred to myself as HIS puppy dog. He never walked with me, he walked me. He never experienced life with me, he wore me like an accessory. I am not a necklace, nor am I a pet. I am a human being. I am a woman. I am more, and not less than. So why do we stay? Why did I stay with Nick? With Camron? With Eric? With Parker? With Britt? With Zackary? I think it's time to talk about all of them, and those in between. It's time to face those parts of myself that were drawn to them. I don't want to end up with anyone like them ever again.
Today is........
whatever I make of it.
I set fire to the box.
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