Chosen Woman

Woman,

Your body is not an "ill-informed DIY building"

It is a paradise of creation.

Your body is the perfect daughter

Of millions of years

Of grandmothers.

Your body was once worshipped

By your fathers and brothers

As the earth itself

As She who gives life and takes life away.

It begins and ends with you,

Keeper of the flame.

Woman,

When it comes to your body

There are no experts

Except you.

You who ebb and flow with the seasons

You whose blood forms bone

And muscle, and mind,

And who whispers to your babe

As they swim in the dark pool

Of your womb.

This soul who chose you

As their partner in earthly initiation.

What instrument made by

Man's hands

Could compare to you?

What book could impart

The secrets of your heart

To those in white coats?

All the sweet and beautiful ways

Your body can open

In love.

What, listen to those

Who would simply measure

What they can see

And never understand?

Their place is not in the seat

Of authority

When you hold all the power

Chosen woman

That seat is yours.

- Jenny Wren

Inspired by a post by a midwife about parents ignoring advice from "professionals".

You Are Not Dirty

You are not dirty
You are wild and of the moon
And tides.
You are not dirty
You are the prophet whose sight
Is clear and true
You are not dirty
You are the life-giver who descends
Into darkness each month.
You are not dirty
You are the sexual ecstasy
That is for your own pleasure
Not procreation.
You are not dirty
You are the snake who sheds her skin
The phoenix who rises again.
You are not dirty
You are the the ties that bind
Him to you
As he enters the endlessness
Of the feminine night.
You are not dirty
You are the primal scent
Of a baby's first cry
And a mother's love.
You are not dirty
You are the river that flows
From the Isle of Apples.
You are not dirty
You are the priestess shedding
The karma of your family.
You are not dirty
You are the heavy womb
Of the world
And you ache and bleed
And make new again.

-Jenny Wren

I Have Reached The Stage

I have reached the stage in my healing where I see the humanity of my abuser.

I forgive him for what he did to me and I see the broken man he projected as a seduction method had its place in truth. I recognise the splitting, the black and white thinking as imperative for protecting myself while I processed the enormity of what had happened. This black and white thinking does not ultimately serve me.

I have reached the stage in my healing where I want to surrender my hard outer shell that I crafted so carefully to protect me. Every time I told myself I was heartless, without feeling, wanting nothing. I see now that this was essential for keeping myself in tact but is no longer necessary.

I recognise that the feelings I have been avoided experiencing present themselves in the voice of a man who tells me I am boring, unattractive, undesirable and who brutalised my heart and body in an performance of perverse desecration. I see now that I need to feel it to heal it, to sit with shame and unworthiness and shine a light in my own darkness.

I have reached the stage in my healing where I admire, respect and trust the men in my life and invite them into my space gladly. I see now I want nothing to do with "men are trash", although this mindset was necessary for my recovery.

I have reached the stage in my healing where I see the toxic leaps my brain makes when my ego feels threatened and I give myself permission to slow down and hold myself in compassion. I see that I will do anything to protect myself and feel safe again, which has been a necessary part of my healing.

I have reached the stage in my healing where I don't want to talk about my trauma, but the aftershocks ripple through my life in ways I am still discovering. I see myself reflected in other women and am always humbled by the collective pain and sorrow.

I have reached the stage in my healing where I am releasing the cage around my mind and allowing myself to expand into love. I see now that rigidity and control helps nobody in the end, although these fierce constructs were necessary to create a container for a woman who felt like she would fall apart.

To all women

In all stages of healing

I see you

I hear you

I accept you

I love you