october journal, entry {five}

An old trigger resurfaced for me over the past 10 days -- it was an infuriating trigger -- one that I know very little of it's roots or it's birthplace; but a deep and troubling trigger non-the-less.

I was pissed off when it resurfaced for I thought i had 'done my work' on that piece. One day it will sink in to my soul that, the work is never done. When we shed our layers like onions we do not shed the layers for them to never to be seen again and move onward up upward -- no, we shed the layer and we sink deeper into the very space that we reside -- often into the very same soul lessons; they just become .... I don't know -- deeper. 

Sexual innuendoes, slut shaming, the idea that just because I have a vagina means you can fuck it makes me IRATE. Being made to feel like I am nothing more than an object -- a walking vagina -- is a trigger for me that runs profoundly deep.

On Monday, on my way to yoga there was a man at the gas station fixing up his bike and as I walked past him these were the words he boldly screamed at me:

"oh damn girl, look at that ass. oh she obviously works out -- squats? oh, i'd like to fucking much that right up".

I revisited this story in therapy yesterday and I find I have the very same reaction right now as I type it: so much FUCKING ANGER. 

This is not the first time words like this have been screamed at me from cars; or the first time that I have been honked at or whistled at as if I am an actual caged animal that is nothing more than how my body looks. This is a reality I have dealt with for all of my life -- it is the curse of how I look. That's just sad... the curse of how I look? It disgusts me that fellow human beings are too busy objectifying me and judging me based on what I wear and how I look too get to know the human that I am underneath. 

I should not feel bad for having blue eyes or a fit body. I should not feel bad for choosing to wear the clothes I wear as if to say that my choice of clothing invites your bullshit in. I should not feel bad for being a woman. I should not feel that my sexual needs should be places aside for the pleasure of you; I should not feel like I am in danger when i walk past rude assholes like I did on Monday just becasue he can not get a grip on his own low vibrational thoughts. I should not feel threatened.

I remember in grade nine having a shop teacher make sexual comments at me -- I can't remember what he said -- all I remember is that the second the words came out of his mouth, I walk out of the classroom straight to the principals office and reported him. I do not tolerate this bullshit. I also remember being in grade nine and the vice principal approaching me telling me to put my jacket on becasue I was revealing too much of my body by having about 1/2 inch of my stomach showing. I was wearing tee shirt and baggy jeans ( I remember this day clearly)  -- this was too much skin to be seen for it was 'distracting to the boys". Are you joking me?? I had a jacket in my locker, but this was bullshit to me; so I lied and told him I didn't bring my jacket. I got sent home. 

Yep, sent home becasue I was a distraction for having a small amount of my stomach being seen. That is total bullshit. The boys didn't have rules like this. It was ok for my male adult teachers -- my shop teacher and that very same vice principal -- to make sexual comments at me, but I was probably asking for it due to my clothing choice, right? wrong.

Grade twelve came along and I had spent my whole life being "the girl with dancers body" and I received a text message from a boy I had gone to school with all the way since grade five -- he mentioned to me that he hoped I didn't gain the "freshmen fifteen" -- I didn't even know what the hell that was, but what I did hear was "I hope you stay hot. Women are supposed to be hot. Your value is in your body composition." This catapulted me into a solid five years of severe body distortion, eating disorders and self-hatred. 

Am I supposed to feel flattered when i walk out into the streets and men "eye-fuck" me? Am I supposed to feel sexy that when I walk past a construction site men whistle and stop and stare? Is it ok that boys can wear whatever they want and I was called a slut if I chose to? Is it ok for grown men to make sexual innuendos at my fourteen self? HELL NO. 

Over the past 3 years I have worked so unbelievably hard in therapy at finding the divine feminine within my self. I have worked tirelessly at understanding the strength of being a woman and surrendering into my softer side. There has been no room for a 'soft-side' in my life becasue I have carried the curse of being pretty and with it comes harsh judgements, weird expectations and unnecessary comments. These comments are real even up to the last wellness centre that i worked at for three years -- people would come in to the gym to check it out and sign up and women would tell our director "my husband can work with any trainer, just not the blonde one with the nice bum". Legit, this happened all the time -- this has been my reality all of my damn life. It's not fucking funny. It is total bullshit. 

My therapist asked me to do some work on the question "what has been my experience as a woman?". We will dive in deeper in two weeks when I seem him again -- I can not wait. 

But for now, with tears in my eyes and a deep feeling of anger and betrayal in my soul, I can say this. I am learning to love being a woman, I am learning to find strength in softest but mostly being a woman has been an isolating journey where I can not seem to figure out where your judgements end and my being begins. Mostly I have felt objectified and like a walking sex tool for humans to gawk at, eye-fuck and openly harass. How is this ok? How has these become the norm for me and so many other women? I have mostly had an experience of women hating me also -- they think I'm bitchy and scary before they talk to me and they want there boyfriends and husbands as far away as possible, becasue for some unknown reason -- I am a threat. I have had jealously in almost every relationship I have been in with the pressures of other men looking at me being my fault. As if to say I like this deranged attention of people whispering loud enough for me to hear about my ass being a tight one. 

Perhaps I carry cellular memories of women being repressed and objectified for all of history. Perhaps I am carrying the weight of what it means to live in a world where woman still do not have equal rights are are literally going to jail in certain parts of our world for being rapped -- becasue some how it isn't the rapists fault. Wake me up, is this some sick nightmare? Perhaps I just think it's total bullshit that when a woman wears a certain outfit she has 'asked' for sexual innuendos of multiple magnitudes.   

This fuels my deep passion for bringing women together -- we need each other. We need to love each other and see each other. We need to stop viewing one another as competitive threats -- we are sisters for God sakes. 

I have alot of work to do and I can also see that I have come a long way. I know the power of softness and I can access it in my soul nowadays. I am able to stand in and speak my truth. I know the strength of divine femininity and I know that what I wear gives you no damn right to speak to me in such barbaric ways -- your words are your choice, your actions are your choice; I did not invite you to treat me that way you did. 

I will stand strong in forgiving what I carry. I will stay committed to the humans of this world, to equal rights and to women rising until feminist ceases to be important word for we are all ONE. 

I'm looking forward to my therapy session in two weeks. 

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