I learned at a very early age that my mother could not be trusted...trusted for her personal decisions and for the choices she would make about me. I learned that she would choose anyone over me and that she was willing to use me as bait to "catch" her men. For my mother....life was a great fishing expedition and...ironically...she called me her "nasty worm." I was of no consequence to her and only a means to an end....
As I aged...I found that many of my most painful experiences came from women in my life and it was through men that I found some semblance of control...even if it was through the use of my body. But, women were this impenetrable force...void of feeling...jealous...vicious...cruel and not to be trusted. And...I grew to be terrified of them. You can only imagine the challenges this presented as I tried to develop friendships or connect with my teachers. While other girls were braiding each other's hair and telling secrets, I was collecting worms with the boys....pushing girls down and all the while wanting desperately to have someone see through my facade of fear.
When I did open myself to another female...it was always a trap...as I had become a victim to my own issues with the Medea in my life. As I craved and sought my mother's love...she saw my need as weakness and exploited everything about me...until I most often felt there was nothing left for me to give. As I grew older and began to meet the mother's of young men I dated...I responded in terror which presented as distant aloofness. The few mothers that saw me for the wonderfully flawed young woman I had become, were eventually lost to me because their son's were not worth any effort. So...I had reached a period of loss or permanent loss...if it wasn't one painful experience it was another.....and...then one day it struck me...I hated my mother...and worse still...I hated women.
There was an awkward peace that came with this realization and I became almost comfortable with the panic attacks that welled up within me each time I dealt with a new woman, in my life. I didn't verbalize it...because every day was filled with women whom I had to interact and pretend to enjoy. I had no real friends and the ones I did have were so damaged that I felt safe with the upper hand. Until the day..the one day...as I raged silently about these female beasts...creatures who rose up to ruin everything in their path and who were a direct threat to everything about me...I looked in the mirror and there I was...a woman.
How could I hate these woman and not condemn myself? Where did I fit? How could I look just like my ghosts...my demons...my Antichrists and see any redemption in me? I couldn't...I hated myself for being condemned to be condemned....I hated that I might destroy others around me with viciousness and jealousy....I hated me....
I am still working on this...trying to find my balance...to not fear each woman as she enters my life and each day becomes easier...because it is not who you resemble or who you represent ...in everything...you are not the visual...the being representing a certain sex...you are what you do...
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