Light from the dark

I’m successful at 51. Much more successful than I ever thought I’d be.

Statistics say, women who were sexually abused as children, like I was, are destroyed by depression or addiction.

In the process they link their trajectory with their sex appeal.

I’m not destroyed. But, I did spend my 20’s thinking my worth was how men saw me and how much they wanted me.

I was a stripper at two places.

I think I was primed for this experience based on what I went through.

In the beginning, I felt like I was going to make money in service to men’s desires.

After a while, I realized something.

I could control how much money these men spent.

I had a sort of power because I held something they wanted desperately.

In the beginning I danced for them.

In the end, I danced for me.

I got more money when I prioritized myself.

It even became a thing my co workers made fun of me for.

On stage, I’d turn toward the mirror, away from spectators and felt my own body.

For the first time, I saw myself as my own.

My body was for me.

That turned the customers on.

But it also empowered me.

Many people think strippers are victims.

They might be in their past.

But I took my body back as a stripper.

I refuse to apologize for this experience.

It was a positive experience in the end.

I realized, I am my mother’s savage daughter.

I’m in charge.

I’m a bad ass bitch because of everything I’ve been through.

I’m not a victim, I’m a survivor and wouldn’t change anything because I am where I am.

We thought we’d live till 10

My twin and I at 11

My twin brother and I, on the night before our 5th birthday, snuggled together.

As we did on Christmas Eve.

We fought with each other daily but actually loved each other and were there for each other.

We had it in our minds, that age 10 was the oldest you could be.

We could count to 10, so we knew we were about to be middle aged.

I remember a cake being presented to us, and looking at him before we blew the candles out with a deep sadness.

We would only have 1,2,3,4….5 years left to our lives.

We’d better make the most of it.

He inexplicably lived another 14 years.

I’m still going.

It’s so interesting to remember what was believed in childhood.

I’m so glad to be alive. Wish he was too.

What I’ve learned on my dad’s deathbed

  1. They no longer need food or drink. We thought for days he would live, and we thought eating and drinking was a sign he would. But he told us he didn’t need any sustenance. We didn’t believe him but we should’ve.
  2. Nothing matters except your loved ones in the end.
  3. In the end, nothing matters except the love you gave, and the love you received. That’s a lesson learned when you’ve lost a great deal. Love is all that matters…

How to Remain Positive

The state of affairs are grim at best right now in America.

“The land of the free” is most definitely not.

We have this new faction called ICE, whose main job is to obtain anyone who seems like they’re “not supposed to be here”.

By that I mean, anyone who isn’t white, speaks with an accent that isn’t identifiable as “American.“

Funny because this country was seized by force and its natives either killed or corralled.

These people given this responsibility have a quota to meet. They’re paid based on how many people they detain.

There is no regard for the people detained.

They are just payments to be given.

This is all government approved psychopathic thinking.

We’ve dug ourselves into this hole because Money means life or death.

If you’re poor, you die without health care, without any consideration.

We’ve put people in this position by the way our government works.

It’s us or them.

If there’s anything positive here it would be the awareness we have that we didn’t have before.

Maybe with this awareness, we can make a change.

Propaganda vs Zeitgeist

Everything put forth has an effect on public opinion.

For instance: in this age of social media, things happening in Minnesota are being recorded and commented on.

If we think of “the chicken before the egg” what we’re experiencing in a global sense is, the egg before the chick

But, as Americans, we know the opposite.

Our country was founded because a certain faction wanted religious freedom.

“We” wanted to worship outside the Church of England.

I say “we” because half my dna comes from English settlers.

“We” fought for that right to worship freely. By “freely” I mean Christianity.

“We” dislocated native ppl in the process. Violently.

Then we distanced ourselves from England.

For financial and religious reasons.

But we kept the ideas.

Slavery of black people was an idea.

All Women being second hand citizens with little rights was another idea.

Only Christians given rights was another idea.

All terrible ideas, but we’ve adapted a bit.

Only a bit because we’re still that puritan, racist, sexist, country that was founded.

The Male Female divide

The other day, I was on the subway and I saw these two young men talking to one young female.

The two young men were doing everything they could to convince her to “hang out”.

They were so respectful and kind to her.

It took 4 stops to establish that they all would “hang” later that day. The female would provide a “friend”

Before that, they talked and vaped, they all shared a vape, clearly they didn’t remember the pandemic.

The girl got off the train.

Those boys immediately high fived.

They started talking about their actual intentions, have sex with her, and hopefully her friend that she had promised.

The one guy asked the other, how into me do you think she is?

They laughed and agreed that she was “really into him”. Meaning she’d have sex with him.

I didn’t get that impression from her.

Another prospective, this girl was waiting on a subway platform and these two guys approached her.

They started talking to her, she talked back because she was being agreeable.

No matter what she wanted it didn’t matter.

She could’ve said “I don’t want to talk right now” which would’ve been completely valid but because she was alone, she couldn’t.

If she had said “I don’t want to talk” she would’ve been a “bitch”.

So she smiled and entertained them.

I hope she gave them a fake number and will never see them again.

A simple trip from point A to point B became a negotiation in physicality, a negotiation in what this woman will share, will she give her power away? Why is her power connected to her having sex?

It angered me in every way.

The Meek Shall Inherit The Earth

I’ve always been fascinated by this statement.

Wars are fought by the bold.

Many people die in defense of the bold.

Many people celebrate the bold.

Large amounts of people are killed as a result.

“The meek” I always thought that meant “weak”.

“Feeble”

Not capable of anything.

I don’t consider myself in the same boat as “the meek”.

Maybe I’m translating that word wrong.

Maybe it means those who think. Those who wait for an opportune time.

Strategic folks who typically are women.

The other night I saw some suspicious lights on the horizon of the NYC skyline.

I forgot that we’re in an evil timeline and Facebook no longer requires fact checking.

I saw a post that aliens are soon approaching to take over.

I of course equated those lights with alien ships.

My first thought was, oh fuck! This is how we die!They’re coming to harvest my womb! Jokes on them! It’s not even a thing anymore!

But also, what can I do to play nice with them. Maybe they’re here on a fact finding mission?

Not, how can I kill them.

Is that “meek”?

I don’t think it is.

I think it’s strength.

I mean to survive through anything and in any way I can.

Bring it on!

I’m in my crone era “don’t give a shit?”

I guess that means I’m a woman 50 or over.

I’m experienced, been through some shit.

Made it through but still experiencing shit.

Work interpersonal shit.

Having to react to other people’s interpersonal shit.

Other people’s interpersonal shit being a thing.

My own interpersonal shit there too.

Juggling all that interpersonal shit whilst trying to maintain my own mental health.

All while trying to keep my cool. Literally.

It’s a whole ass thing.

I remember my earlier years, I was insecure, my world could be shattered by some asshole disregarding me, even if it was perceived and not experienced.

I truly don’t give a shit anymore.

It’s so freeing.

I think I’ll enjoy things now.

Full Menopause

When we’re young girl’s going through puberty we learn to stay silent.

I got my first period on a camp sleepover.

I was 10 years old.

I woke up and thought I was dying.

I saw blood.

Later, my mom told me what that was.

I was “a woman”. It sounded like a threat.

All I can say is, no one but my mom cared about my first experience, and no one but my mom cares about my second experience. Really cares that is.

Cut to 40 years later, I’m going through menopause. The taking back of what I went through so many years before.

I mention that my bones are literal radiators, that I can’t sleep, that I have this floating RAGE and extreme anxiety and it’s like…. I’m sorry…. And that’s it.

Like, I mentioned it once, It’s been acknowledged now move on.

Let me tell you, it’s FUCKING CONSTANT AND LASTS 12 MONTHS.

It’s a real thing that women go through and is not at all respected.

By women I mean owners of a uterus.

I’m in my warrior era and I’m cut down by my own hormones.

It doesn’t stop me from being a leader in my industry, It doesn’t stop me from thinking clearly, it just means I need to go through what I’m going through. And it actually sucks.

Return to your regular programming!!

Half a Person: When a Twin Dies

Me and Bobby

When my twin brother and I were turning 10, we were convinced that we would die soon.

We thought you couldn’t live past age 10.

I remember our 5th birthday. We looked at each other, knowing, with a feeling we shouldn’t have felt at that age.

We silently commiserated that we were old. We were living on borrowed time.

I remember the night before. Even though there was a serious boundary between my space and his, we slept together. Held on to each other for dear life.

I don’t know why we didn’t tell anyone but we didn’t.

We slept in the same bed that night, holding each other.

We thought something major would happen.

It didn’t.

I value these memories I have with my twin. Painful as they are.

We came into this world together, but I’m left behind.

No one but a twin could understand what that means.

No one loved me more than he did.

I’ve never loved anyone more than him.

I hate that I lost him.

I can’t stop thinking what we would’ve been had he lived.

I think he would’ve been such a support with our dad when he died.

He could’ve been a support for our beloved mom.

He could’ve been a support for me supporting our mom.

If you have a sibling, hold them close.

No one knows what you’re going through more then them.