Cherokee Sage Woman

Debra's blog caused an avalanche of 'thinking' in my little world today. And that's the evidence of a good blog.. when it just won't quit niggling your brain. When you wonder what was in it that made you 'remember' something you'd probably rather forget. At those times, it's best just to sit down & Enter the Silence. Go back to whatever memory it is or was that was re-lit by this writing. All our memories are burned into our circuits (our mother board?) & can be accessed, w/ a few simple inner 'key strokes' if we take the time.

And so I went back thru a bit of time, thinking about the many 'small rapes' that I had personally gone thru. Not the blatant, actual ones (Because they DO happen within the so-called sanctity of marriage, you know. It's just that in Oklahoma, it's not illegal), but the subtle insipid & sometimes most harmful ones. These don't leave visible marks or scars.. they leave the kind you don't see. The ones that build up emotional scar tissue, creating a wall that will withstand all manner of love, forgiveness, or caring.

And in my inner meanderings I saw myself as the 16 yr old I was, seven months pregnant w/ my 1st child. I had been married for over a year, & this was going to be the best thing that had come out of the past yr of insanity. I was walking to my mom's house. I didn't drive until I was 21, so I walked everywhere. I was so proud of the mystical magic of what was growing inside me. It terrified & amazed me, all at the same time. I knew I was on the precifice of life never being the same again, as I neared my due date. And my mind pondered all these wondrous thoughts as I walked past the schoolyard, on my way to my moms.
A motley gang of probable 12 yr olds stood at the fence of the school. I smiled at them, because it's what you're trained to do in Oklahoma. You smile, you play 'nice'.. you assume the boys aren't all animals. And they sneered at my projected tummy, and yelled out, 'She's been had!'
All of a sudden, my magical enchanted spell was broken. This lovely being in my protective womb.. all the God-given chemistry that was taking place to create a perfect child.. was something to be embarrassed about. I placed my hands on the sides of my swollen belly & walked faster towards my mother's house. My shoulders hunched downward, where a few moments before, my wonderful waddle was a source of pride.. now I walked the humiliated 'girl-who-had-been-had'.
I never quite got that innocence back again.
Words are strong things, but they only affect & stay with you, at your behest. We give power to them, & they can make or break us. At 16 I didn't know I had that power. I was too busy giving it away to everyone else.
As teens, we try on many 'labels' before we hopefully find the ones that suit us best All too often those 'labels' are given us thru the ignorance & cruelty of others. "You're clumsy".. 'Why are you so stupid?'.. 'You'll never be able to do that!'
And in our tender psyches we acquiesce and sorrowfully say, 'Ok, I guess I am.. I guess I can't.. I guess you're right'.

That's what happened the day of that small rape when I was 16 and on the brink of motherhood. They stripped me of my burgeoning pride, they told me I was less-than, they made me feel 'dirty', they caused me to feel embarrassed & sorry for the baby I carried, they made me want to apologize for walking past their hallowed halls, they made me wish I wasn't me. And I never even put up a fight..