goddess

when i was just 19
i pulled a knife on a guy
well
i guess
actually
he was my boss
i pulled a knife on my boss
because he kept
grabbing my ass
not just grabbing
but fondling
stroking
caressing
my ass
i really don’t know
if i ever said “no”
i was a good girl
taught to
smile!
to be pleasant
to say “yes” to men
especially those with authority
smile!
be pleasant
so he would molest me
as i tried to do my job
working in this kitchen
in this college town
just 19 years old
and i probably
nicely moved away
nicely tried to keep my distance
nicely smiled
until
one day
i grabbed a kitchen knife after he touched me
not a sharp one
a notorious dull one in fact
but i grabbed a knife
and held it out
as a threat
as i smiled.
he smiled too
and walked into the knife
to show he wasn’t afraid of me
it barely scratched him
if at all…
but!
he never touched me again

goddess2.JPG

i have been embarrassed about this for years. i can’t believe i pulled a knife on someone. not just someone, but my boss. i don’t talk about this story because i felt like i was in the wrong. all these years, i have felt like i was in the wrong for doing it. i beat myself up and tear myself down for not having better coping mechanisms.

but i really didn’t. i was never taught to stand up for myself. quite the opposite.

so i snapped and went into fight or flight. flight hadn’t been working out for me. so i fought. and i won.

so why do i look back at this memory & cringe?

fuck that bullshit.

today i am cheering for that poor little girl. today i’m ready to tell him where the fuck to get the fuck off. fuck intimidation. fuck molestation. fuck all that. i am proud of myself for finally standing up for myself…even if it was in a pretty drastic way.

goddess1

ode to being pissed off

hey. you know what?
if i’m depressed and thinking about how nice it would be to just be dead…
to just escape
this
all of this.
it is not going to do any good to say,
“shut up, don’t say that, you have kids.”
because
here is the thing
one of the reasons i think death would be nice
is because i wouldn’t have to be a mom anymore.
do you get that?
please, get that.
but it did work out.
you pissed me off.
what? am i an incubator? am i just a big nipple?
am i not a person?
do i not matter?
if i had no children, would it be okay then, if i wanted to die?
do you only care about me
because you hate to see motherless children?
there are plenty of suffereing children. go rescue one. if you want to help me
you listen
you don’t tell me what i should be thinking or doing or feeling
you fucking listen.
so now i’m pissed off
which is good
because it is hard to be sad when you are pissed off.
now i want to spite you for suggesting all i am is a vessel
only valued for my contributions as a mother
(and frankly
never really valued for that either)
so now i’m pissed off and i’m going to live to fight another day
take that
motherfuckers.

my big epiphany for the day is that women are taught to not get angry. to be nice & pretty & to smile and to not make a big deal out of it.
and so we stuff all that anger down…and it contributes or results in a state of depression. we can’t be mad. we can’t be sad either…but it is easier to hide sad.
and mothers suffer it the most. we have to be everything. strong, but not too strong. always there. able to fix any problem. no time to think about yourself–why would you want to think about yourself? what? you’re thinking about yourself?? we have to love being a mother. it has to define us.
but what if it doesn’t? what if we have doubts?
stuff that down, too.

so i was depressed. now i’m just pissed off. which is good. all that sad is turning to mad and i am letting it out to go where it needs to go. i told those fucking exes who i have been reaching out to–out of loneliness–i told them what i needed to tell them. basically, to fuck the fuck off. i don’t need them. i really really really don’t. in fact, i am way better off without them. but i had to find that out. and i had to get pissed off.i had to realize that they actually made me feel more alone, because they couldn’t give me what i needed. and they don’t want to give me what i want. and i just have to get over it.

and get pissed off about it.

so maybe depressed women (men too?) need a healthy and appropriate outlet for their anger. maybe? i know it’s not that simple, but, hey it couldn’t hurt.

are you depressed? let’s go burn something down!
(at least we can burn a bridge to that toxic person inĀ  your life who you keep around because you haven’t gotten pissed off enough)

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