Content Warning: sexual assault.
Well, my love, I want to share something with you.
My love, my love, my love.
What a sad, sad world, where you could ever think it was your fault, or somehow your own shortcoming, that you once lived in a state of wholeness, where you did not suspect that someone who seemed to care for you was actually plotting to violate you?
My beloved, beautiful daughter,
Your body is holy, your womb is sacred, and your wholeness is sacred. It is a terrible crime for anyone to come into your sacred space uninvited. It is a violation that should be rare and horrifying, and swiftly and seriously punished.
Somehow, that is not the case. Somehow, it has become almost the norm, to the point where people would dare to blame a woman for not expecting it to happen to her. Because you went for a walk with him, Because you let him kiss you. Because you went to sleep in his bed.
My love. My love. I love that you did not expect that someone would do that to you. It means that you were living your birthright: that you were in a state of wholeness and innocence, that you did not see the world as a dangerous place, and that you trusted people when they said that they cared about you. That is a beautiful thing. I want so badly for all of us to have that back. That is the way that the world should be.
It is incredibly sad that we no longer trust. That we jump when someone walks behind us. That we hesitate to meet someone who seems nice online. That we do not believe that someone really cares about us when they say they do. This is not “being smart”. This is trauma, resulting from violations of the trust that we once had. No one should have to live this way. No one should be expected to live this way.
My love. Your womb is holy. It always will be.
It is filled with power. Filled with light, and with nourishing darkness. It is the place of the primordial presence. Your dark cave within, where insight grows. It has been telling you of it’s distress for a long time. It has been twisting and turning, sharing it’s agony with you, telling you that something has happened, that it was wrong.
It is not a punishment. It is not a mistake. It is a cry for help. It is a cry of pain. “Someone has hurt me!” “I need help!”
My love, we are here now. We are here to bear witness to what has happened, and what was wrong. We are on your side. We believe you when you say that you did not want it. We believe you when you say that you were confused, that you did not know what to do, that you froze, that you went along with it because you did not know how to make it stop. Perhaps you didn’t even know that you had the right to make it stop. Maybe you did not know that your body is your own.
We cry with you. We know that you were set up for this. That you were taught to doubt yourself, to be “nice”, to follow someone else’s lead.
My love. We cannot undo what has happened. But we can honor the truth of it. We can take full stock of what has happened, and the effects it has had. We can grieve them, we can honor them, we can give them voice. And we can heal. We can grow stronger now, for ourselves, and for others who have experienced the same things. We can tell our truth loudly and clearly. We can take ownership of our bodies, and insist that they are respected, from the major event, to the seemingly inconsequential;
NO, YOU SHALL NOT TOUCH MY BODY!!!
It is mine. It is all, all mine. From my toes, to the ends of my hair; from my skin, to the deepest depths; every part of it, is mine, and mine alone. I live within it, I occupy it completely, I am living here. This is my home.
My love. My sweet one. My daughter of light. I am with you always. I am within you, always. I speak through your body. And I know the truth.