she's alive part 1

Dedicated to every woman who has ever lived.

She's dancing. She's smiling. She's flying. She's exploring the world and everyone is cheering her on. She reaches beyond the sky. She's touching the sky. Alas, she's holding up the sky and everyone is rejoicing with her.

To the working woman, to the nursing woman, to the homeless woman, to the pregnant woman, to the single woman, to the fighting woman, we raise our glass. Your victory improves the rest of our worlds.

Your victory is our victory.

So why are we blind?
Why do we leave you there, dying, as the sky crashes down on you, shatters everything and leaving you in darkness?
Why do we not grasp your reaching hands that once touched the sky and now only find emptiness?
Why do we perpetrate your weakness and continue to sap your strength?
Why do we belittle your efforts and snatch away all your hope?
Why do we ignore your tears and pleas for help?

Why do we allow half of our world to deteriorate and pollute our consciences with misogyny, murder, and scandal?

Why do we settle for survival, when the opportunity to thrive is upon us?

To live is to promote life. Promoting life is the challenge all of us must rise to, for her sake. For our sake. For the sake of life.

re-life

It felt like breathing, which gave her the impression that she wasn't really living before.

Everything was suddenly so natural, so vulnerable. Everything physical seemed to dissolve - it all crumbled around her, leaving only her heart completely exposed, screaming worlds she had never heard but always felt.

And then she was free.
All boldness released, all shame gone.

She opened her eyes. The world looked different. The sky looked brighter, the people a little less cruel.

And she wasn't standing alone

culture shock

This last summer, I traveled to the Philippines, where my mother's family lives. It was my first time to ever encounter the country that, though has been silent for the last 23 years, has represented half my heritage. My time in Cebu can only be described as three weeks of culture shock.

I'm a stranger, yet somehow you love me. I represent so many things your life is not, yet you represent half of my existence. In so many ways, on so many levels, I dominate you. But I'm subdued, almost comforted by your love. I can't even begin to comprehend our closeness.

I am torn between two things I can't define. Two forces? Two worlds? Two perspectives? Your world, your face, your language burns inside of me, a sensation I have never ever before experienced. I want to cry, to laugh, to scream; but everything is trapped by something that has fiercely taken hold of my heart.

Every word, every song, every sound, every rooster's crow adds to the pressure. What do you even see when you look at me? What do you even hear when I talk to you? What do you even think of the fact that I'm here? This is not my world, and you realize this, even more clearly than I do. You're watching me, catering to my movements, even sometimes laughing at me, but you love me. And I am here, pretending, making conversation, because somehow I love you, too.

This is the worst feeling in the world. My heart feels swollen. My mind feels heavy with thoughts and emotions. My body has never had more energy, and it seems to be the only thing that keeps me going in this world. My feet keep walking, without question, while my heart is screaming expressions of desperation and profanity and confusion.

You constantly ask if I am hungry or tired. Yet I have been eating and sleeping to the full MY WHOLE LIFE. Although I don't know how it is possible to accept this, I do.

The whole time, the poignant turn of events inside of me remains unknown to you, the one I seek to know, yet, at the same time, hide from.

animal

For a few hours, I was an animal. A beast. A domesticated pet turned wild. All control - no longer mine. I was no longer fit to survive. Without the help of my caretakers, I was helpless. Mumbling words. Blind to every movement that wasn't the stumbling motion of my body. I felt things, heard things, but all understanding was gone. I was the dog returning to its vomit. All human sensation was dead.

Sleep came easily enough, but when upon awaking, I was surrounded by disaster. The uncontrolled, unnatural occurrences of the night were suddenly like needles pressing in all sides. I had a soul. After all, I am a human.

And I will never dehumanize myself again.