Happy International Women’s Day!
Today is about female empowerment from all walks of life and countries worldwide; it is a day about amnesty and hope and providing chances and opportunities to women locally and globally, and a chance for women to feel proud of their gender and the forms and connotations womanhood has taken on throughout history. While broad and political and global and widely recognized, I want to glean the issues raised to talk about love.
Love? Hardly an empowering emotion, right? Right. At least, I don’t think so. Some people might argue that falling in love is the most empowering thing in the world and I disagree. Whenever I’ve been in love, I’ve always ended up allowing myself (and I am taking the blame) to be at the hand of the person I loved, and I let that feeling of love swallow me up until I was drowning in it and kept continually being pulled under and under and under. I let it depress me and cut me open and ruin my dignity and my happiness and my satisfaction with good things in other areas of my life. And to me, that defines female disempowerment; of not being able to let go, of being under the spell of someone so completely. To be so heartbroken you legitimately think you’ll go to sleep one night and never wake up because you’ll have died of a broken heart. And are in fact surprised when you wake up to a sunny window the following morning and manage to survive through a day of emotional hurt just by going through the motions. That’s hardly empowering. Some might argue that’s not love, either – but they’re wrong. It is. It’s the most intense kind of love, because it’s left at a crossroads. And you would sell your soul to go further. Courtship is arguably the most intense and uncertain stage of love; when it sotps there it can’t mature.
I vowed to myself that I’d never feel this way again. In fact, I didn’t even have to vow; I just knew. I was certain of this. That it would be impossible. Nope. No more unrequited madness for me. Never. I won’t let that cloud consume me again, I won’t be that girl waiting in line for someone’s attention, I won’t be back against the wall with or without someone, whilst uncertain of how they feel about me, or if they feel anything for anyone at all in the end. No. I won’t be that Bambi-like victim, the mirror of someone’s vapid, cold-hearted ego. I won’t allow myself to be taken advantage of, or to think of someone and merely just laugh at the delightful thought of them. Never. Again. Never. Never. Ever. Not ever. Not me. Never……