God Cries For Your Love
It is a great tragedy how often, since I began my blossoming as a female, men and women have mistakenly assumed that I, as a beautiful woman, seek to be sexually desirable, desired and pursued.
What they don’t realize is that I can feel sexual attention on me like a hand in my aura. When the hand comes towards me slowly, with an open palm facing upward in supplication, with a gentle question, an inquiry – not even a coax or attempt to CONvince – I will likely turn toward the hand and consider what response I would prefer to give.
But most of the time it is an open hand that comes toward me quickly and reaches out to grab at me. I can feel the fist close on a chunk of my energy and I can feel my essence being yanked out of me.
I can feel this differential in my energy even from across a crowded room or a busy city street. If I see eyes move in my direction in my periphery, I will detect an energy shift if the eyes have intention. When I “turn heads” on the street or walk into a room, I can feel the reactions I get to my being seen.
Some people just react to the motion of my movement by turning their heads, recognize they responded to a human movement and go back to their previous distraction.
Some people go back to their previous distraction and their brain will get the message that their eyes saw something remarkable and they might turn back toward me to take another look.
Some people who take another look will acknowledge to themselves that the desire to turn their heads was a result of what their eyes confirmed, whatever that might be, and again go back to their previous distraction.
Other people will catch their breath, visibly I might add, and REST their eyes ON me (at the very least). From there, they will have a physical, chemical reaction in their bodies. Whether or not they are sexually attracted to me, their physical reaction will FEEL sexual to them and that will AROUSE them to sexual desire or anger.
I don’t need to do a play-by-play from there. Think of all the ways a man or woman could be angry at a beautiful woman for inspiring sexual arousal in others. You can imagine, because you have experienced, the rage a human can have when they believe they have been manipulated or taken advantage of.
They can’t bear the shame and guilt of the knowledge of the error of their intention and arousal. Instead, they accuse me of being a temptress, a seductress, a tease, cold, calculating, evil. Can you believe that a man once delighted in telling me I had an “evil pussy?”
Abuse takes on so many forms that people can act as if they had no intention of harm, especially when they are called on it. They will say that I’m crazy for misinterpreting an innocent gesture. And not only men are the culprits.
“Hey, what’s your problem? I was just saying you have a nice dress.”
“What a bitch. I just told her she looked pretty today and she turned away without even saying thank you.”
If you say kind words to me, with what you think is a disguised hatred for me because you have hatred for yourself, why would I want to give you positive reinforcement for that expression?
Would it surprise you to know that I have longed for the day my hair will turn gray so that weak and shameful people will stop seeing me as a free maiden and therefore suspect? Read The World According to Garp.
My hairdresser was incredulous that, as my hair goes white and develops a beautiful cinnamon sugar sheen, that I wouldn’t want to color it to retain the illusion of my youth.
I told him repeatedly, until he stopped trying to sell me on the service, that I had been waiting my entire adult life to watch this happen. My hair is going to turn white only once. Why would I want to miss a single moment of the glory of moving into the evening of my womanhood?
It reminds me of how often, during the brief time I called myself Wiccan in the early 1990s, the gals in my pagan study group would be surprised at my desire to play the Crone in ritual, even when an older woman was present in circle. Perpetual maidenhood is not the way a woman is intended to live her life.
Reversal of aging is a lie that the world wants you to buy, and you signed up for that illusion so many years ago that you don’t realize that the hundreds of dollars you have spent on expensive creams isn’t going to bring back your vitality nearly as much as living in gratitude will for decades after your skin relaxes in its need for plumpness and your hair gives up its pigmentation.
What is my beauty secret? Why do I still look so magnificent at age 44 in the face of inhumane suffering and the agony of existence? It is because I have always known that I was born beautiful in the eyes of God. Nothing, nobody, can take that away from me. The attempt to do so only brings me sorrow.
I am not a banquet for human consumption. I didn’t put on classy clothes and enhance the beauty with which I was born so that I could be desired and hated.
I do not control the men and women around me. I control the access they have to me. I will be vilified for this and I must endure. I must stand fast. I must not move.
For beauty is my God-given right, my gift from and to the world. There is no give and take, for there is no up or down, no light or dark, no to and from, no leaving and returning. Beauty is eternal, transcendent. It never fades, is never damaged or destroyed.
And I won’t let you forget it.
I laugh easily and joyfully!
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