They raise her to take a knee before man.  To accept defeat as a natural born state.  But she has never known war.  She was born into conflict.  A conflict so unfair.  A conflict so deceptive.

They keep her in hell whilst promising her heaven. They leave her poisoned and starving, whilst eating from the bread of life.  And the karma shows.  It shows.

When was it okay to kill her in the name of God. Who made it okay to chastise her for the sake of Heaven.

It is within her that humanity takes its first breath.  She gives them life and this is how they have repaid her.  They declare her a second class citizen…a second class being…They instruct that her voice needs permission to be heard.  They change her regal script of sovereignty and strength and declare her weak, a pinnacle of temptation, a fortress of sexual deceit and manipulation.  They create the idea of submission and obedience, as a way to control her progress; to stamp out her beauty; to keep her as a glorified slave in her own home.  But there is no glory in being a slave.  Show me the glory in being stripped of your rightful place. Your rightful honour.

How can she support something that tells her she is responsible for a world of temptation and sin.  Surely, her history has been plagiarised and rewritten. The secrets of her origins are held within the soils of the Earth, and it grieves the truth of her.  And in turn, she grieves in a way that man will never know.

Samson would never be the same because of her. She is only deemed the all powerful, when blame needs to be shifted.  God forbid that the walls of patriarchy would ever take account for being tainted by the very thing that it has used to rule and abuse her.  But all hail Samson; the personification of a mans world paying the price through karma.  Whilst you write stories of lies, we remember who instructed Delilah.

She is programmed to believe that her elevation has no place in this universe. She is taught that her value can only come through another.

So it’s no wonder she has a pent up anger inside.  And it lingers.  Perhaps because these injustices are still so evident all around her.  It has followed her around like an invisible friend for as long as she can remember.  And I say friend, because I guess it was the only thing besides herself, that saw what she saw, in the way that she saw it.  They shared a problem, figuratively speaking.

Ironically, I was born during the suffragette era. An era of empowerment. An era of change. But I wonder whether this was just a manipulative game to keep the oppression of “her” in place.  Because this was a time where the UK saw it’s First female elected to run a political party…to lead a country…There was a Queen on the throne of the British empire…All symbols of equality, but the story behind a woman’s closed doors in reality, was a very different one.  And I was just a girl, behind a closed door where the truth looked very different.

I was a girl, being taught very harsh lessons and truths about the damaging effects of things not really being as they actually seem. I was a girl being taught that she was less, in the name of God. I was a girl being taught that I only have a heavenly “father”. I was being taught that I came after man and that I have no heavenly “mother”.

As a woman, as a mother, I now know that none of that was true.

In the name of God

 

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