Forms of sexual abuse range from years of intense physical and emotional trauma to the less obvious varieties that nearly everyone has experienced: being humiliated for masturbating or for not fitting into the right gender mold, being coerced into having sex when you didn’t want it, or being told you look like a whore when you’re sixteen and just spent two hours making yourself look beautiful for a date. The wounds may not be physical, but in this puritanical culture we are constantly wounded or abused emotionally as we grow up learning to be sexual. Whatever the physical or emotional circumstances, sexual abuse is abuse of power. Period.
Urban Tantra, sacred sex for the twenty-first century, Barbara Carrellas
Wanting to vomit after reading my previous blog entry, is a healthy body-response.
It’s important to me you understand my references to Power. It is the world we move in.
I’m a light sleeper. After writing and posting my last entry, I slept until morning without waking. I hope those of you who read it, found comfort in some way, afterwards. This medium is not conducive to me holding you, I would have, in my heart – I did.
The molestation I experienced is not secret. The sin is not mine. Why should I carry it? Why should I keep it? Why should I protect his shame, so that he is free of it while it binds me down, devouring, robbing me continually of Power I would otherwise have? Enough was taken from me, why should I take it from myself? My life is worth more than that. I’m worth more than that. It is his sin. I’m someone different.
On occasion, residual memories intercept my routine. The good news is, scars fade. If we allow forgiveness, this becomes our new memory, our new body. Eventually beauty outweighs cruelty.
I learned early on – sex is Power; a disgusting thing for a child to understand, no matter the experience.
Sex, Power, these are neutral. The intent behind them decides love, healing or rape. Being sexually abused has energetic implications, you become a wounded animal among the creatures of the Amazon. Predators naturally employ their sixth sense striking quickly, unexpectedly. One tried and I fought him off. He was a cousin. This is why Power is important. It is magnetic.
Sitting on Mary’s sofa, sipping coffee, our discussion turned to the topic of sex. I was twenty-one and a virgin. Mary offered this advice, ‘Why don’t you just go out and have sex? Find someone and just do it.’ Her mask was a serious expression of inquiry. I played dumb, ’Yeah, I could do that.’ Mary supported her sound guidance, ‘Yeah, you should.’ Goliath’s bid at trickery was lame at best. No mother with a fourteen year old girl at home would consult another young woman to go out and just ‘do it.’ Sex is Power. Her suggestion was not nourishing. I would have carelessly given it away, who would’ve lovingly given it back? No one; abuse of Self, loss of Power.
Goliath made himself known. Mary was not my friend in heart, she was my enemy in Power.
She still is.
Continued on Saturday July 9th 2011
Until then, I remain yours,
Lesley
Hallelujah Heartist
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