From the battle of the sexes to the battle against sexism. it's a painful and confusing struggle. we are seduced with war. tempted to lash out, hurl poisonous words and be steel-chested and rock-hearted to face "the enemy".
but what i feel is a fiery river of pain. my spirit collapses inwards, protecting herself against the violence. my heart contracts. my belly knots and i sob. i sob with rage and anxiety and the tired hopeless feeling of "but i didn't do anything". it's an old feeling, this flame of misogyny my sisters and mothers have been burning in for generations.
the hot tears make puddles on my homework, the social change work i was in the middle of. that's what sexism does. it interrupts the process of change, the process of revolution and gaining power. that's why they asked our great-grandmothers to jump into the fire when their husbands died.
"Of course, women so empowered are dangerous." audre lorde
i stop crying. i reach out. i write to my sisters. i write out.
i'm going back in, not just for me, but for those of us to come. i will remain and speak out and face the witch-burning attempts. i take the vilification and targeting as an affirmation of my powerfulness.
and i also know, you're not my enemy. you're just afraid and insecure. you will never complete yourself this way, by trying to make me less than you and make us a perfectly imbalanced whole. i can still show up, ruined, lovely, peaceful, and unafraid.
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