In Gratitude

This week, I've realised something huge - the old South Africa and (some of) the USA are very much alike; which is why so much of the USA stuff triggers me. It brings back a lot of bad memories. Maybe I've just been exceptionally unlucky, or maybe I've just been more aware. Either way, it was often nothing huge, just constant small slap downs. Slap... slap... slap... until you either break and give in or burst into Fury.

And for how to control the Fury and use it... I owe that to my mom and dad.

I had parents whose motto was, "If you see wrong - fix it, help it, heal it, and ALWAYS SPEAK OUT about it."

I had great role models. Tiresome at times. As a teenager, I didn't always appreciate the fact my parents stood up and got involved. As a teen you just want to be popular. But even then, I learned a lot, and it's made me a better person. I am so grateful for their foundation.

And thank you, Srinivas Shastri, for constantly reminding me that the most powerful and healing Fury is tempered in kindness. You gave me a better view of my self.

And thank you to the women (my mom, friends and family) who taught me how to release the Fury. I tended to bottle up my anger, in fear of doing harm. I have often been the "self harmer" - preferring to be the one hurt rather than hurting. It took several wise women to teach me to trust my own voice and not back down when others tried to manipulate me. You all gave me my voice.

My Body is Mine - Your body is Yours

The recent news that the USA Supreme court has overturned Roe vs Wade is a dark day for women living there. For all women, really. To have 50 years of bodily autonomy declared irrelevant overnight impacts  all of us.

I'm tired now.

I'm tired of having to explain why a foetus (no matter whether it is loved or wanted, or feared and not wanted) is not a person. A foetus may be the potential to become a person, but as a potential "maybe" it cannot hold the same legal rights as the woman whose body it is in. The woman already is a person... or the girl, as in the recent case of the ten-year-old rape victim who had to flee to another USA state in order to have the abortion she needed.

WHO THE HELL REFUSES TO HELP A TEN-YEAR-OLD RAPE VICTIM?

I am angry now.

More angry than I have words to form into coherent thought. But thankfully, I'm not alone. From Australia to Africa, to Europe and Canada... women all over the world are angry both for their sisters in the USA but also for themselves. Everywhere I look, women are sharing their anger and their stories. Best of all, I'm seeing MEN stand up and say, "We are angry too; this is wrong." From Kendrick Lamar to men I know personally - friends and family. It's still far too few men, but it is a start.

I am grieving now.

This has brought back memories of not having my body treated as my own. I only realised this looking back - too late - my body was never treated as mine. When I first showed signs of endometriosis, in my 20s, the gynaecologist I was sent to ignored the signs and instead went on this weird rant. Instead of  focussing on my symptoms and why I was actually there, he raged at me for being single and how I needed to take better care of my ability to have children.

I wasn't a person with health concerns - I was a womb. I wasn't someone in pain - I was an incubator.

In my 30s, when endometriosis nearly killed me twice over, I should have been offered a hysterectomy. I wasn't. I should have had all the full implications of "staying able to have children" explained to me. It wasn't. And as a result, the damage in my 40s was *extensive and life-altering. I was sacrificed to keep my fertile, for a future man who never existed until when I finally did marry, I was too damaged to ever keep a pregnancy and too damaged to ever live a full and healthy life.

My body is mine. My body WAS mine. Why wasn't it ever treated that way?

I am determined now.

I will not shut up. I will not let any other woman or girl not know that HER BODY is HERS ALONE, but we now have a huge battle ahead of us. The Patriarchy has to go. It is an ancient toad, sitting in a swamp it created with its own warped mental excrement. It always was a lie and now, more and more, it cannot hide. The swamp is being drained and no matter how ferociously it fights, it will become extinct.

It is inevitable.