Choosing love

❌ TRIGGER WARNING

When I was a kid with an older brother two years my senior who liked to draw his fingers together and jabbed me in the solar plexus. Which on thinking back, I wonder if this was artfully designed, he was after all a genius and maybe was quite aware of the ramifications of what he did. When he pinned me on the floor at the end of my bed dangling a small knife over me, which I believe he dropped at some point, no harm done. Or jabbing a pencil into my leg because a friend of mine had seen him sitting on the toilet and it must have been my fault. I don't remember being afraid of him.

We did have a father who flew into rages and wiped the floor with us. He wasn't an alcoholic. My parents were middle class intellectuals. So from the outside we were a reasonably well respected family among certain circles. Certain liberal political active let your kids get beat up, circles. Honestly I don't think anyone knew we were beaten. People minded their own business, so to speak.

I wasn't afraid of my father either, curiously.

My father who had no sexual boundaries with anyone, not anyone. Who thought teaching his daughter about orgasm at the age of eight or nine, the thing. After all it was the sixties and sexual liberation was all the rage.

I told him to stop, which is what an eight or nine year old does, of course. Completely expected, absolutely.

And to tie this into the only sanctioned thing to write about, some thought in the early days of 2020, that some of us who knew to question the mainstream narrative, did so because of abuse. An early education in questioning those in 'authority'.

Don't feel bad for me, this is the least of it for me. And my story, unfortunately, is hardly unusual. And it does not define me. It can make life complicated, but I know how to do the work of it. Which I am thankful for.

Pulling it back yet again to the only sanctioned discourse. I despair more at the inhumanity of 'man'. Not with the overlords and their despising of the masses. But the way the masses fight among themselves. And not even those who disagree about the current insanity. But those who agree and cannot support each other. I see compounded trauma and continuous destruction between those who I would hope would simply choose love. Especially in this moment of global insanity.

And to wrap this up, what I would characterize as a rant, and bring it back full circle. Being the little one in my family of 'origin', I found my way to words. And how with words I could fight back. Fight back against those who had more physical power than I.

In the middle of all this insanity, my personal series of unfortunate events and the broader global events, I have made a choice. A concrete choice. Not to lie and manipulate, when I easily could. Anyone can. It is not how I choose to live.

I choose words to save myself again and again. A process of taking myself back from those who choose something other than love.

I will not mask up and muzzle my own voice. I will not bow down to you, whoever you are who wants to take my power from me. My power to choose, to think independently, to survive in the middle of insanities. To choose love first and foremost.