The truth stings when it reveals your sin.

So you attack.

Out of instinct.

Out of fear.

Insecurity.

Pleasure.

You don’t care if I’m your daughter, your wife, your sister, your mother, your cousin, your niece, your co-worker, your friend.

You care about power. Always grasping for power.

Which we take away by merely existing—or worse, when we open our mouths.

Forget that this power, served to you on a silver platter, is your birthright according to this world.

Forget that our power comes at the price of recurring nightmares, PTSD, and a litany of therapy bills.

Remember, dear one who feels powerless, there is Someone who holds all true power.

What brings me comfort is knowing we serve the ultimate Power who is not passive on justice.

My hunger for justice is palpable.

You will never know the gut wrenching, heart ripping, soul screaming NEED for justice until your body, soul, mind, and heart are repeatedly crushed by the bodies, words, and actions of men with unearned power.

I sob openly. My daughters confused as I tell them life is harder when you’re a girl.

I leave the room, compose myself. We get so good at composing ourselves. It only takes me 30 seconds from breakdown to showtime.

The acting degree comes in handy. But why must we pretend? We who wait in the wings are suffocating. And now is our time to step onto the stage together, in solidarity. Because we cannot sustain the alternative…

2 thoughts on “Grasping for Power

  1. Im a survivor of molestation, gang rape, technical kidnapping and rape and multiple statutory rapes… I wish men knew I wish they hurt for what they did… For making certain places, smells, even faces that remind me of theirs terrifying and filled with flashes of what had been done… I stand with you as a woman not a victim. WE have voices that need to be heard. We have the right to be heard..

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