I have to be totally honest here. First of all, I’ve never, ever been one to follow the crowd. The pink pussy hats and #metoo movements never interested me. To be frank, hadn’t most or all women been discriminated against, or sexually abused in one way or another? What good would my being a part of these movements benefit society? (please bear with me through this)
I had particularly strong feelings towards the #metoo movement. After all, I had been sexually abused in one form or another since I was in Junior High, ending three years ago in a gray date rape situation (not unlike this current one!), and I was fine. Wasn’t I? WASN’T I????
This past incident, however, brought up so much stored emotion ranging from total disgust with myself, to total outrage. I couldn’t speak to anyone for days. (Which is rare for me when I am in crisis mode!)
I WASN’T FINE. I had let everything that had happened to me fester….until….like a pimple….it popped…..and the AHA’S started flooding in.
My parents had always made me aware that I had to be a nice girl. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t make a scene. Don’t say anything that might be misconstrued. Plus, the only real advice I received about men was that it was playing with fire.
And so, when it started in Junior High with a band instructor, (who used to feel my breasts), all I would do was push his hand away. My dirty little secret was just that…mine. Until he did the same thing to my sister.
Over and over again it would happen. Until I became numb.
I felt that the only way to get a boyfriend was to have sex with him. After all, isn’t that what they wanted? Why would they want to be with me for any other reason? (Oh heck – here comes the poor self-esteem creature!)
After my divorce, (which, partially, was because I wasn’t able to be intimate) I picked up where I left off.
A series of failed relationships where I found myself, once again, not able to be intimate.
And then, this last incident.
Which made me look long and hard at what “I” was doing to attract this sort of thing.
Loads of AHA’S. I didn’t feel comfortable with the #metoo movement because I hadn’t healed yet. I still didn’t feel worthy. I attracted those that were here to bring me lessons.
What happened two plus weeks ago has taught me so much about myself.
I desire a relationship with someone who respects and honors me, but, that won’t happen until I respect and honor myself.
I’m painting my way through it….strong, powerful, naked, #metoo, and #toomuchwomen. Warrior goddesses. Those that aren’t afraid to set clearer and stronger boundaries. Those that aren’t afraid to ask for what they want. AND GET IT! It’s healing for me. I’m also working with a sister/coach who sees my forest for my trees.
My judgement is falling away more and more. I don’t blame myself (as much). I’m diving deep, and coming up for air.
And so, I guess this post is to say – I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I judged ANY ONE who has gone through this. I’m sorry that you went through it. I’m sorry that it continues to happen.
I think the one thing that I need to add here and say to all men is that these women (or men) that you are using for your pleasure and disrepecting, are somebody’s daughter, sister, mother, grandmother, or aunt. PLEASE consider that next time that your urges threaten to get the best of you….because, it could happen to YOUR family.
I hope that you find these paintings as healing for you, as painting them has been for me.
Many blessings to you all.