Write What Hurts...

Sage advice given....along with the advice to stop being 'so positive, write about the darkness, the evil; be honest and upfront!' Easier said than done in an age when everyone seems to be doing just that. Writing about the angst, the pain, the horror of breaking a nail, losing their way downtown in a big city, the girl next door is prettier than me, someone disagreed with me....the selfies bombarding social media...me, me, me, me....a pay attention to me world...this is what I see and I suppose as a Gen X it is something that horrifies due to the way we were brought up. You did NOT talk about issues, especially within the family...you carried on and buried the anger, the frustration, the hurt, in work, in outside things...

The one time I managed to cross the 'closed door' barrier and enter one of my older brothers bedrooms after a particularly disturbing visit from our father and the resulting drama...I stood in front of that door and one of the other brothers for what seemed hours, finally knocking and going in to talk him out of leaving...crying and pleading with him to stay. Who else was going to protect us from the outbursts, the rages?

And so...here I am...speaking on family events...broadcasting the uglier parts of family life...showcasing abuse and the consequences to the victim/s.

This is not for me...not for me alone...you can bet that as we write, as we expound on topics swept under the carpet, dressed up in finery and strutted round as a lie, publicly presenting a good face, a good bf/husband/partner persona that shatters all preconceptions of the capacity to deceive, lie, connive, distort, dupe, fabricate....

This...this exposure is to bring light to the darkness...for the blind to see...for truth to be the word of the day, of the month, year...

I have, in the past, mentioned that coming out from under the thumb of your oppressor, your jailer is not for the faint of heart...you leave clutching, grasping, holding on to all the broken pieces cut, maimed, tortured and left for dead...you gather them all up and walk, run, move as though in a dream, a nightmare of such epic proportions it is all you can do to place one foot in front of the other...encased in mud, in the building blocks of destruction, a foundation of lies crumbling as you use your fear to GO...GO...GO....

Their voice echoes in your mind as you run...whispering, screaming invectives, reminding you of your uselessness, you inability to survive without them....oh my friends...what a lie, what a twisted, convoluted, ironic falsehood. You have survived THEM...their anger, their rages, their rants, their words of cruelty and betrayal...and more, you have forgiven...loved...forgiven again...loved with long-suffering and patience....

No my dear dear lost ones...YOU are the strong one, the one with ineffable strength of character and courage...they...oh they are weak creatures, turning this way and that seeking adoration, validation from whoever they can, giving in to the flesh always, purposefully...believing they deserve all....entitled, arrogant cowards each one.

You stayed loyal...despite their betrayals...

You stayed committed...despite their cheating, lying asses...

You BELIEVED in the good in them...despite showing you every reason in the book/s not to...

Your energies, your loyalty, your commitment now stands with you...for you...for that inner child crying out for love, for kindness, for TRUTH, for compassion, for PROTECTION from the monsters hiding in plain sight.

You, you are worthy...a Queen worthy and deserving of life, of love, of joy and peace. Now walk it out, talk it out, speak your truth with dignity, with kindness and stand f*cking tall like the Queen you are. It is far past time to get angry with the treatment, with the chaos, with the lies, with the confusion. It is time to LIVE....