Sex, Ties and Which Road Do I Take?

Tags

abuse, awareness, bread, commodity, connection, emotion, healing, hurt, journey, love, morality, Oscar Wilde quote, retail, sex, shock, therapy

Warning: this contains controversial subject matter.

“Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.”
― Oscar Wilde

What is it about sex? Why does it catch everyone’s attention in a way that other subjects do not? Let’s face it if you open a newspaper and there is some scandalous snippet about a well-known politician, do your eyes not immediately wander over to what you might perceive to be something juicy, something to gossip about on the telephone, by the water cooler: “Who would have thought it? Yes, and he’s married with three children!” Sex elicits shock, surprise, disbelief, smugness. It questions morality. It excites. It turns you off. It turns you on. It can bring on a headache. Some can take it, others prefer to leave it. Some will only do it if you put a ring on it. Or so Beyoncé would have us believe.

So what is this three letter word all about? Why is it so pivotal? Is it because we cannot exist without it? We can’t exist without the air we breathe, but does talk of “air”, (incidentally another three letter word) impact the human race in quite the same way as sex does? An article on air and an article on sex? Which do you read first? Air or sex? Sin -an old-fashioned word with religious connotations. Sin too is pivotal to the human condition. Who doesn’t sin each day, intentionally or not. Sin excites, shocks and questions morality, but not in the same way as sex does.

We cannot live without sex. It is central to our lives. And if this is the case, why is it not revered? The association with dirt cannot be denied. When I was growing up, my mother could not say the word “sex”. So I was introduced to menstruation, by being given a little pamphlet about it with the warning: “Don’t fool around boys”. That was the extent of my sex education from the woman who gave birth to me. You would have thought that I would have been given more detailed information from someone who had been there, done it, got the “T” shirt – right? So the shy, confused eleven year-old, was left to negotiate her own sexual journey armed with a pamphlet and an ambiguous statement. What exactly did “don’t fool around boys mean”? Don’t appear to be an idiot in the presence of boys? What would a boy consider to be foolish behaviour?

Sex, sadly is also a commodity. This some would say, beautiful expression of connection between two people can be bought, sold, bartered, negotiated, and disposed of. Sex has been reduced to a retail concern, with economic connotations. Just as you can “pop” to Tesco for your bread, milk and potatoes, you can pop out to buy sex too. Both sustain you. But when was the last time you got excited about spending a night in with your loaf of bread? Isn’t sex more satisfying? Especially with a loved one with whom you’ve forged emotional ties.

So what is sex? A beautiful expression of connection or a physical urge which needs to be satisfied? It would appear to be both. A sexual paradox?

And then, there’s abuse. Using sex to ruin a child’s life. Wrong! Forcing yourself on an individual who does not want to be part of your desire to satisfy your own physical urge. Wrong! How can it be acceptable to be irresponsible about sexual gratification if it involves stealing a child’s right to explore their own sexuality in their own time, at their own pace, when they want to? Yet this is what child molesters, paedophiles, and those inclined to this criminal behaviour would want to impose on those of us who find this reprehensible. This is not sex. This is depravity. Make no bones about that. Once you have stolen someone’s innocence, you might as well have killed them. Yes, I know this is unpalatable for many. But it is the reality. I have to shock you. Because I have no other way of stressing the hurt, the pain, the distress, the emotional turmoil, the mental turmoil, the taking of a valuable life. Who knows what that child, young person would have achieved had they not found it necessary to heal that trauma in later life? Hiding away from the world, instead of boldly shining their light.

So I’ve dealt with “sex” and I’ve touched on “ties”. Now you’re wondering what I’m going to say about “which road to take”. It was in fact a play on the words “Sex, Lies and Videotape”, that well known film starring Andie Mcdowell and James Spader. I have nothing more to say than I hope you appreciate my pun.

~ MEW

Secrets

Tags

awareness, child abuse, communication, healing, hurt, metaphor, pain, peace, poem, poetry, self-knowledge, therapy

Are secrets really secrets?  How long can a secret remain a secret?  Doesn’t everything come to light at some point?

 

Secrets

Long before I knew my mind, you took away my right to know my mind, and in so doing took the very essence of me, that part of me which struggles now to know who I am; the real me.  You came and with your honeyed words drew me into a maelstrom of deceit.  I felt confused, but could not fight you because you were bigger than me in every sense of the word.  Physically, you were bigger.  Mentally you were bigger.  Emotionally you were bigger.  You were simply too big for me and I was too small.  What did you see that day you came to me, smiling, with evil in your heart, evil on your mind, evil guiding your hands?

You believed your secret was safe with me.  But you could not be more wrong.  Oh how you gloried in your misdeeds and how you luxuriated in the wrongs of someone with a secret.  You laughed mockingly at the small soul who kept your secret safe within her heart, never fearing that she could one day part with the sorrow that secret held for her.  That secret which tore her dreams to shreds, prevented the seeds of miracles to unfold.  The secret which stopped her from being bold and taking hold of all that was rightfully hers.

Ah but time has passed and with that passing has come the desire to cast aside the mire in which she passed her time, for she could not call it living.  It was a poor substitute.  The secret explodes and each dirty shard is tossed into the air, it is there for all to see.  You seek to deny it, you question the reliability and demand evidence to support the claim. Surely you are not the one to blame?

Your secret was not safe with me.

~MEW 

 

 

Father

Tags

90th Birthday, abuse, anger, child abuse, communication, compassion, forgiveness, healing, heart, hurt, prose poetry, sadness, self-knowledge, therapy

Father

I know so little about you. I do regret that and I wonder if it is possible to go back while there is still time. But is there still time? And if there is, what would I ask you and would you answer me truthfully, or would you continue to evade my curious, questionning heart,confuse, abuse, lose me in that maze, that maze that you constructed, stiff, stifling, solid walls around you, saying “keep out!”.

Who mothered you? Who fathered you? Who were your friends? Who struck you? Where did your rage come from? At whose hands did you learn to fight, bite, keep tight, never lose sight of the anger, hold it, nurture it, feed it, plead with it to keep you safe, safe from the hurt and the pain which surely must have followed you doggedly in your formative years?

My tears, my fears, the passing years, heaped in a pile in a bundle in the centre of my heart. I keep meaning to have a clear out, but I don’t have the strength to tackle that bundle, so I trundle along in the hope that one day soon, I’ll march in, take hold, unfold all those offending garments, toss them into a place where I can see them for what they are: questions, questions with no answers. No answers.

I have known you for years untold and yet I do not know you. You have been in my heart, never too far apart, lingering languidly upon my lips, in my thoughts, in my prayers and layer after layer of you is impressed upon my being. I need to forgive myself for not getting to know you. I need to forgive you for not letting me get to know you.

~ mew

Stronger

Tags

communication, harmony, healing, hurt, inspiration, journey, love, metaphor, Oprah Winfrey, peace, power, prose poetry, self-knowledge, therapy, tranquility

Yesterday I started to read Oprah Winfrey’s “What I Know for Sure”, and I found it “Bible-like”. It’s a good book to keep close by to refer to on life’s journey. It is full of truth, authenticity, guidance, self-love, love for others and wisdom.

The cover of the book is beige and green and it has an oak tree on it. The oak tree is a symbol for me of faithfulness and strength. Its sturdy trunk is rooted and unshakeable, and a place where I can rest my body if and when I need to. It wont collapse with my weight. It will stand firm and hold me up. Its girth will give me a sense of stability – something like when you are a small child and you run to your mother and put your arms around her. Your arms never quite reach to clasp, but that solidity and warmth, comfort and reassure you.

I am feeling fine today. I meditated for a while. I am getting stronger each day. I feel loved and wanted and special. Not knowing what the future will bring for me does not scare me. I am grateful for my breath, my body and my ability to write. These gifts are precious. They are worth more than gold, but I will not lock them away in a vault of fear, for fear that they will be stolen from me. I will display them and trust that they will stay. I will take these gifts, treasure them and hold fast to them.

~ MEW

Letting Go

Tags

abuse, compassion, forgiveness, hurt, letting go, moving on, pain, prison, release

Why is it so hard to let go of past hurts?  Do you know, I’ve struggled with this and try as I may, I cannot come up with the answer.  But I have tried hard to do this – saying “I forgive you”, and at the point of saying it, there is a feeling of release.  But oh how easy it is to slip back into unforgiveness!  It’s as if I am in a wrestling match, trying to overcome my opponent.  I think I have him pinned down, but then he frees himself from my hold and grips me in another hold, where I struggle to free myself from that hold in my quest to become the victor.  My conclusion is that it’s not possible to completely let go, it’s an on-going process and if you can get to a place in your heart where you feel the grip is loosening, then you will feel better.  Perhaps for some of us it is more healing to say that “I am forgiving”, rather than “I forgive” realising that it is a process and a journey (for want of a better word) and that by looking forward to that place of forgiveness, each step taken, takes you closer to your goal.  I found that trying to release my pain through this poem was a step on my way to forgiveness and letting go.  I’m guessing we all have a poem to write …

Forgiving You, For Giving Me Hell

In this beautiful place

On this beautiful balcony

Overlooking the beautiful sea

I see

My father in a different light

I begin to view his plight

 

This morning it’s not about me

This morning it’s got to be

A gradual awareness of how blessed

He is, that God has made me see

How broken and wounded this man has been.

So now I reach out

 

And without a doubt

Release him, I free him

From the prison of my heart

I say: “get off your bed, you’re free to go”

I open wide the prison door

And stand aside

 

That he might slide past me

And fly outside

That he might soar

With wings of love

Into the sky above

So long I’ve held him prisoner

 

Watched him through the window of my soul

Refused to give him parole

Screamed that he in prison would die

But now I see that he must fly

His tormented soul begs my forgiveness

And so I release him

 

I can no longer his judge and jailer be

I’d like to say, with one fell swoop I set him free

But that would be a lie

My qualifications for this job did not come easily

The tears I shed, my wounds they bled

I flirted painfully with death

 

So you see, I earned this position

‘Twas not given me

I could not relinquish without a fight

A lifetime of immeasurable hurt

But now I choose to set him free

Go on, go quickly: I will not change my mind about this clemency

 

You don’t deserve it

You misfit

You don’t deserve it

You’re so unfit

But because I choose to let you go

To lose my sorrow and my woe

 

You’re a free man

Free to leave your prison cell

Free now to dwell

Wherever you wish.

Copyright Marie Williams July 2009

Who Am I?

Tags

hurt, pain, poetry, self-knowledge, soul-searching, therapy

I’d like to think of myself as an individual with my own identity, thoughts, feelings, ideas.  But I think my very essence is made up of the people who created me and I am the sum of all of their identities, thoughts, feelings and ideas.  Whether I like it or not, the very core of me reflects my parents.  How can it be otherwise?  Is it not the same for everyone?  Although this might be the case, how I choose to be and to live my life is down to me.  I have the choice to reject or to accept those parts of me which validate who I really am.  I HAVE THE CHOICE AND SO DO YOU!

Who am I?

I am my mother’s smile

I am my father’s anger

I am my mother’s calm

I am my father’s rage

 

I speak my mother’s pain

I speak my father’s loss

I speak of what remains

I speak of plenty and of dross

 

I lived my mother’s happiness

It wasn’t hard to do,

I also lived her real distress

It was my undoing too

 

I lived my father’s struggle

I lived my mother’s peace

I lived for harmony: sweet release,

I lived ‘twixt heaven and hell

 

Who am I, then?

That’s the question:

Smile, anger, calm, rage

Pain, loss, happiness,

Struggle, peace, sweet release,

I am the sum of all of these.

That’s who I am.

 

Copyright Marie Williams – August 2009

 

My Rainbow

Tags

healing, hurt, inspire, journey, poetry

Hello! Yesterday I wanted to inspire women everywhere to really believe in themselves and to value themselves wherever they are in their lives. To quote the late Maya Angelou we are “phenomenal”. Some days we are up and some days we are down, but it doesn’t mean we have to stay down forever. Here is another poem to make you smile: MY RAINBOW My rainbow is never far away I see it even

MY RAINBOW

My rainbow is never far away

I see it even when others don’t

It beckons me silently from above

Its illuminating colours say:

Red is for fire, fire in my belly

Do the things I want to do, and do not turn to jelly

When problems haunt and distress me

Red says be strong and don’t be

Fooled into thinking that yellow

Means you’re cowardly

Yellow brings out the sunshine

Of your smile, let it linger for a while

And if you’re feeling blue

Smile, feel the fire in your belly

Chase those blues away

Absolutely refuse to let them stay

Take a trip if that’s an option

And off to Indigo, or even to the moon

In your imagination the places you can go

Don’t need an airline ticket!

So Violet, what a pretty name

Smile, feel the fire in your belly

Chase those blues away and off to Indigo

Enjoy your imaginary rainbow trip

They’ll be so green with envy

When they see your yellow

Sunshine smile, know you’ve

Chased those blues away!

Enjoyed your trip to Indigo

Felt the fire in your belly

Saw your legs didn’t turn to jelly

Because you refuse to let it do

That wobbly thing it does

When you’re feeling as if

Life has kicked the stuffing out of you

Instead of jumping into bed

Think Rainbow!

Smile, feel the fire in your belly

Chase those blues away

And while your checkin’

Your virtual ticket

For your trip to Indigo

Sit back and peel yourself an Orange!

© Copyright – Marie Williams – June 2009 My Rainbow