After posting to my blog I venture out to the ones I have been so negligent in reading the past few weeks. I read though Introspection posted by my dearest Gyps. I am cut to the core by her words and feel moved to comment. But, as the comment progresses I see that it's just not enough to share my thought about her post with her... it needs to go further.
How many little girls desperately need to hear "You are amazing, wonderus, strong beyond your belief. You deserve to be safe. Hold my hands, let's go into the darkness and find..." what ever fear they need to face.
The world is full of "little girls" of all ages that have been beaten and broken by sticks, knives, fists, guns and worst of all words. They live their lives in a shadowed land never seeing the vibrancy and colors of life as it's meant to be. They are haunted by the evil that permeates their lives and may very well survive only as the shell of person they could be.
My mom, my husband, my friends, even my kids wonder why I love to fight. Why a kind hearted woman that cries over Kodak commercials would find joy in learning to use strength, skill and a wooden sword to pound on a fence post, a punching bag, a tree, or a heavily armored person?
As women we are taught to love and nurture and when things hurt us we take the blow and don't let anyone see the bruise. My world is full of children that have been broken by people that claim to love them. I look at their scars, let my heart feel their pain, but I'm not allowed to fight back. I hear about the women, girls, sold into slavery, little girls that have their bodies mutilated or are murdered for their families honor but can do nothing to help and only little to bring about change.
So, I fight just to be able to fight. In a safe, contained environment I can let the anger boil over, allow the rage to blast out. When I get a bruise I am proud of it. It hurt and I survived and don't have to be ashamed because I got it fighting back. The fence, the tree, my opponent can be anything from the system, the governments, the abusers or those that would turn a deaf to the screams.
Words are powerful. People, even just one can bring about change but sometimes it just feels good to swing hard and let it connect! Then take a hand and head into the darkness!