Blame

Blame is a tricky game.
It doesn’t usually lead
to the truth
it would
have you believe.

You did this to me.
You are to blame.

What does this serve?
Who does this serve?

Yes, I have been victim
to the abuse of others.
Yes, I have blamed them
for my abuse.
Yet I’ve seen blame held fast
to the chest
of the broken hearted.
I’ve seen it eat at wounds
like acid
I’ve seen a person
fail and fail
and fall and fall
And learn nothing.
When led by blame.
I have done this myself.

Release it.
Release blame.
We are taught forgiveness
I think
Because blame is poison.
Blame erodes
our sense of self
sovereignty
Personhood.
We rob ourselves of a clear picture
of self
when we give our power
away in blame.

Take responsibility
It seems counter intuitive
when we have been hurt
deeply
truly
But blame is not here to serve us
Blame is here to blind us.
It is a half truth.
Become whole.
Release blame.

-Angel Marie Russell

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Trust

Trust
Past fear,
Past the ever growing divide.
There is a bridge called hope.
There is a bridge called faith.
The foundation is love.
The pillar’s strong and proven over time.
When the world leaps into chaos
There is light
Even in the darkest places.
Hope knows no enemies.
Love.
Trust.
Faith.
Let them blaze.
Come back to them
When afraid.
Trust.

-Angel Marie Russell

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Angel Marie Russell is a mental health advocate, writer, musician, and artist devoted to sharing her experience with PTSD as a survivor of domestic violence and child abuse through writing, music, and art. She is the writer and creator of Sergeant Sparrow, a music, art, and literary blog; Lost Ghost, a poetry and writing blog; and PTSD survivors of Domestic Violence and Child Abuse, a Facebook page.

Femininity

mark-shield-maiden

 

I want to be very clear, that the patriarchal masculine or blind feminine idea of what femininity IS, is well, WRONG. You know why it’s wrong? Weakness has been lumped, coerced, and pushed onto the definition of femininity, WITHOUT CONSENT, and is viewed as a feminine only dynamic. AND not only that, but weakness is seen as a bad, or negative, state of being. To be delicate, soft, sparkly, high-pitched, curvy, pretty, flowing, spontaneous, gentle, empathic, and sensitive, FEMININE, is not also and therefor, to be weak, nor is it bad to be so. “The words femininity and womanhood are first recorded in Chaucer around 1380. . . Erving Goffman argued that women are socialized to present themselves as “precious, ornamental and fragile, uninstructed in and ill-suited for anything requiring muscular exertion” and to project “shyness, reserve and a display of frailty, fear and incompetence.” (Wikipedia contributors. “Feminine.” Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia.) Meanwhile, aggressiveness, strength, and intelligence are attributed to the masculine.

What irks me to no end is that this definition and “box” of femininity, or womanhood, persists not only in many religions, but in our society, and thereby the perception structures in our own minds. If your Christian upbringing or faith is an excuse to continue this line of thinking I suggest you pay closer attention to Jesus; “In one generation Jesus lifted women out of the disrespectful oblivion and the slavish drudgery of the ages. And it is the one shameful thing about the religion that presumed to take Jesus’ name that it lacked the moral courage to follow this noble example in its subsequent attitude toward women. ~ The Urantia Book, (149:2.8)” And each of these societal constructs have similarly owned this concept of what it is to be feminine.
You see, I am feminine by this definition. And don’t get me wrong it is not that I am ashamed of being so; I love my femininity. What bothers me to no end however, is that when I embody intelligence, strength, independence, aptitude in mechanics, science, engineering, math, muscular fortitude, video games, sports, or display fiery anger at injustice, I am somehow less feminine, or less of a woman, and therefor most definitely trying to be “masculine” or have “penis envy.” Society has me so beholden to this definition that I then cease to be “attractive,” which should obviously be the point of my existence, (sarcasm).
You know what I’ve remembered and what this patriarchal paradigm is afraid of? Other’s don’t get to define me. Only I have that power. I have remembered my strength, my right to intelligence, life, liberty (free will), and equality. And when I embody these “masculine” truths if you find that to be “unattractive” I would ask that you think about why you feel that way. If my attractiveness is the only motivating factor in your noticing or paying attention to me, then I’m not sorry and you have entirely missed the point. I will no longer placate to these sensibilities, and if you take issue with that, then kindly check your own heart, or move along.
I am a woman and strong both.
I am a woman and intelligent both.
I am a woman and independent both.
And if my existence somehow
SHATTERS your definition
of what femininity is,
well then I’m sorry my friend,
but your definition of
FEMININE,
is WRONG,
because
HERE I STAND.

 

#notokay #femininity #nastywoman #imwithgoddess #amazonrising
Art: Shield Maiden – Mark Piggott

Why is it after we fall in love,
Sometimes,
We loose that sense of awe,

That sense of wonderment?
That person that
astounded
And amazed us
Now annoys us

Why is when they grow familiar
A part of our hearts
Grows bored
Like love is a drug
To abuse
For selfishness

How can such a pure
and lovely thing
Turn sour
I look in my heart and see,
Unease
I feel unworthy.
I feel separate.
I search in others
To give me
What I should give
To Myself

This love
This intangible
And unknowable knowing
This love

This search and frenzy
This seek and devour
This loss that destroys
Oh love!

Oh, that I had the strength
To feel the amazement
Every single day!

Oh that I had the power
To give this to
Myself!

See,
This separateness is a lie
This unworthiness is fiction
Because my own heart is a beacon
Where love is called home
Repetitively
It cries out

Love…

Me…

Love…

Me…

Oh but tiny heart,
My fragile little bird
I love you.
I see in my capacity to love another
That indeed my heart can be loved too
I have this knowledge
How to love another
And if I can love another
I can love me too!

And this ache
This separation
That drags me to darker places
Can be loved out of me
Not by another
But by myself.
And then!

I am not empty but whole
I do not seek the glean that sucks me in
To lust
To rush
To bathe in seductive light

No,
This love is eternal,
Sacred,
And true.

This love I have in abundance
So much so
That it boils over onto you!
I will never again be bored
My love!
I will never again grow tired
Of your visage
I will never again feel
separate
I will never again feel alone.
My heart is as your heart.
My heart can love.
Myself.
And you.
And the two are not exclusive.
I will spend everyday celebrating you
My love
I will spend everyday
Remembering
Walking in awe
At the life you lead.
At the glimmering truth
Of you.

And should our love end?
I will continue loving you.
Because I loved you once
I can see past the pain
And love you again
And this is how we forgive
Not only our own hearts
But each others
Live in love
Breath in that awe
Breath out in amazement
That we are here
Stumbling
In love!