Memory 2016, March 17.. Rape

I’ve been searching for God since I was 8 years old and suffering and needing him to fix it. I found him in a way, and in doing so, saw that I had some pretty serious flaws, I treated people in some unkind ways, I have an amazingly sharp, nasty tongue that has done a lot of damage. So I turned from searching for God and started searching for myself. It was within this search that I found God again, only this time, I realized I was searching outside of myself for something that was within me all along. 
Can blindly continued, regurgitated life-denying tradition be overcome? How can you say you’re close to God, and yet you talk behind my back as though I’m not a part of you? Why do we say we are fine when it is obvious we are not? Why is it such work to stay conscious and so easy to get stuck, and not the other way around? Why am I encouraged to shut my mouth when it gets to close to home? Why is it so hard to tell you what I want? Why can’t you just read my mind? Why do you say you are spiritual, yet you treat people like shit!? -Alanis

Rape. The angry voice is the voice of a rape victim saying no. I’ve been raped repeatedly since I was a child. I’ve been continually raped emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, and sexually. I’ve been raped by my family, by the medical system, by my religion. But worst of all was that I believed I wasn’t deserving of anything better. I’m 43. For 43 years I have whispered, please stop. It’s been getting louder, and my body has joined in her voice. Please stop. I’m saying no. I’m saying this loudly and firmly. There is no question as to whether I give my consent. I’m not the only one although I feel like I am because everyone else pretends it’s ok. They consent. But I’ve received my freedom of speech to be the voice for those who don’t yet. Stop raping your sisters. Stop raping your self. Stop raping our planet. Everything we do to ourselves, we allow the same from others. Please stop.

Bless you to my friends who are still my friends after feeling the pain I inflicted upon you this morning. It wasn’t fair and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry because I know how painful it was to read those words. I cried when I wrote them and I cried in the shower when I realized I had to. I had to give it away to someone. Someone had to see what I’ve been hiding since I was too young to comprehend what was happening to me and that it wasn’t my fault. I’ve carried this pain so long I could no longer carry it anymore. I was broken. I needed to allow myself to heal. I don’t know if that was the last of it, but I think that was the last angry outburst I’ll need to have. I’m so grateful for my friends. I’m so grateful that my friend and current supervisor, Robin at work fixed my broken wing in her Pilates class for me with just a touch. When you allow for healing you will heal

Until the last victim is heard

The anger will come 

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