I heard a story today of a woman that was raped and how she channelled her pain into art, into story.
I sat in the soft afternoon light and my entire heart contracted and heaved and sighed and cried as I listened.
I was called to write something — to do something.
To channel pain into change is activism.
I want to offer measly words from my heart to support anyone who has ever been here.
I sit here and have words that wish to be said and I have love to give, yet I know that knowledge comes from hearing a story like I did today and wisdom comes from experience.
Rape is not something I have experienced and it is not something I wish to share wisdom on.
I usually do not speak on things I do not have experience in – I do not feel qualified to do so.
So let these words come from someone who is not wise on rape, but someone who is compassionate.
Hear them gently and if they anger you or do not resonate, please do not pick them up—let them fly by.
There are theories that we have “soul contracts” and that we choose what experiences we have when we enter this world.
That we choose pain, and joy and love and heartache.
That we are both the victim and the villain in different lives.
I agree with this theory in many capacities, but not on rape.
My wish for anyone who has had hands that were not given permission to be on their body the strength to wash the invisible finger prints free.
My wish is for you to be angry—truly angry and rage and rage and rage into the night and the day.
Rage for the injustice, the taking of your sacred skin.
My wish is for you to let yourself sit in the dark with your pain and not try and mask it or drink it or live within it as a story—I wish for you to feel it.
To truly feel it through.
To not wear it as something that must always define and be part of your story.
But an experience amongst other experiences that will happen to you.
My wish is for you to be accountable for the experience—to not run or flee from facing and upholding justice for the wrong that was done to your soul.
My wish is for you to stand and stare into the eyes of the one who harmed you one day and say, “You may have tried to take my power, but you didn’t. My power lies here, within me.”
I wish for the person to pay who did this to you.
I wish for them to feel the weight in a way that steals joy and sunshine from their life.
And at the same time I wish for you to not obsess and revenge over the wrong that was done—I wish for you to put the experience on in all the levels of emotion, process it deeply and then take it off.
Hang it up on a hook that does not need to be revisited everyday.
Forgiveness is something we often use as power and when we refuse to forgive it hurts us.
I do not wish for you to forgive who did this to you—I wish you to feel whatever you feel for the rest of time.
I wish for you to let it go or not let it go, but I hope whatever you do you find a way for it to not hurt you as deeply.
I wish you to heal, in the daylight.
I wish for your bruises to turn from black to purple to pink to green and gone.
I wish for your soul to be washed with salt and scrubbed with dirt and soaked in all that brings you joy so that you may gingerly one day enter this world with eyes that do not fear, but trust.
I wish for you to do everything you possibly can do to hold the person accountable and then I wish for you to surrender and know you have done all you can do to protect other people in this world from the same experience.
I wish for you to someday allow yourself to receive hands on your body and pleasure again.
I wish for you to not only survive this experience but go out and thrive greater, walk taller, speak louder.
I wish for no part of you to shrink or die or contract.
I wish for you to eventually walk deeper, stronger and with purpose and conviction.
We need our suffering more than we need growth and I want you to need your suffering until it no longer serves you, and then for you to release it and walk forward into the daylight.