I have been suppressing my anger and rage for most of my life. Have you heard, like me, "girls don't get angry," "you're not very nice if you say that," or heard another woman be called a bitch when she spoke her mind? Yeah, in our society, angry women are shunned. Well, I'm fucking angry and I'm tired of holding it in.
I'm so scared to let my voice be heard with this, and I may choose to bring it down soon. But I'm so angry for myself and my fellow sisters across this world who have been abused, made invisible and told to just be quiet. I cried today while doing yoga. I cried for all the times I felt invisible in this world and for my fellow sisters who have been raped, beaten, killed, their flesh cut off, told to be quiet, told they don't matter, shown they don't matter, their rights removed or denied. I cry for us all in hopes that one day our voices will be heard and we will be equally valued.
I want to give a trigger warning that the things I'm about to express are about sexual assault and I do not want anyone triggered. I guess I'm just tired of keeping it all bottled in and I know that so many femmes can relate. I hope, in writing all of this, that you get the feeling of a sister, holding your hand, looking at you in the eyes and saying, "I see you sister. I believe you. Please believe yourself that your experiences and feelings are valid. I hold your hand and stand with you as you feel your own anger and rage. You are not alone in this and YOU WILL GET THROUGH THIS." Because, sister, we are fucking resilient. If our experiences have taught us anything, it's that we are resilient and no one can take that from us. We are strong, we are brave and we often sacrifice the 'me' for the greater 'we.' Well femmes, it's time to raise our voices and hold each others hand. Let's blast through that old programming that women are catty, mean and can't get along. I think the world knows that when strong and loving females unite, we are a force to be reckoned with. Let's show this world what it means to be a Divine feminine presence.
I am angry that my parents told me things like "if you don't stop being sad and upset, you're going to have to sit alone" while out to dinner. Or spanked when I didn't want to sit next to my dad at a restaurant because he gave off pedo vibes. I'm angry that another woman would choose a males comfort over her daughters fear.
I'm angry that I woke up to being raped in college. I was angry at myself for a decade that I laid there, frozen in shock and fear while he continued to rape me despite trying to pretend that I was waking up in hopes he would stop. I'm angry that I told him a clear "NO" to sex or sexual activity once I realized I was very drunk and yet I woke up hours later to him inside of me. I'm angry that still, to this very day, over 20 years later, I worry that he accidentally raped me in his sleep; and that haunts me to this day that I believe he raped me when it may have been an accident.
I am angry that about 8 years after being raped in college, my ex-husband did the same thing to me; night after night. I am angry that he knew this had happened to me in college, yet he would assault me at night (why is it so hard for me to say rape here?). I am angry that he would manipulate me with back massages or only do this after a heavy night of drinking. I am angry that I laid there, again frozen and shocked, and did nothing to stop him in the moment. I am angry that he continued to do this, even after I would talk to him the next day and tell him that I didn't like that, it hurt and I didn't want that to happen again. I'm angry that he would gas light me and guilt trip me, saying that wives are supposed to do these things with their husbands. I am angry that it took me so long to leave him and that it honestly took me wanting to protect any future children from his treatment to leave; that it wasn't enough for ME to protect ME from that treatment.
I am angry at how invisible I feel in this world. It manifests in some of the strangest ways. I know that I have a part in this. While I have experienced thousand of tiny and large wounds across my lifetime, I know that I also perpetuate this as well. I have shrunk myself through out my life to be who I thought my family, friends, career, and the world at large, wanted me to be. I have made my true-self tiny and unseen. I have kept my mouth shut even when I am amongst safe people like my current husband. And as I sit here and write this, I am terrified to be seen and heard. So much so that I believe I have energetically been cloaking myself in invisibility. My social media is practically non-existent, my podcast has a small audience and my clientele are few. I struggle to make myself visible, even when I put myself out there.
I want to be seen. I want to be heard. Not just to stroke my ego (though I hear her voice yell at me), but because I want my pain to be my fellow sisters medicine. I want to have my experience mean something that isn't just pain, but rather inspiration and help for another femme.