The discarded woman

Dedicated to you my friend

I know you feel betrayed by the community of “sisters” who, you thought, would remain by your side, even when you made mistakes.

I know you are confused by the unspoken expectations of perfection in your behaviour, while being told by the facades of their faces, ceremonies and words, that they will be there for you no matter what.

I know you feel like you have been left to die alone, and without the ones who are meant to hold you in your deepest, darkest moments.

I know you are terrified to feel the grief that stirs inside of you because of the trauma we all seem to carry.

I see you. I am you. I too have made mistakes, and been left to die in my sorrows, while poisonousness arrows penetrated.

I am witnessing the arrows of judgements fly at your back, and the gossipy fires of the tribe burn around the circle you have been cast out of.

I am witnessing the ring of fire burn the sacredness of you as it melts your wounds away.

The arrow laced words are not said to your face, or from their hearts. They are said to the faces of the circle that, they too, are scared of being cast out of.

They don’t dare to hold a mirror up to the image of their own mistakes, for if they did, they would have to feel the terror of a lonely judged death of themselves.

Stop leaving her discarded with arrows in her back.

Stop being a pissed off victim who got burned at the stake when you’re the one doing it in this life.

Stop screaming THE MAN expects perfection from you, when you’re the one doing it to your sisters.

Stop sitting in ceremonial facades while you’re still afraid of your own shadow.

Stop hiding who you really are for fear of being banished.

If you find yourself in the experience of The Discarded Woman……

Let those words burn you. Let the discarded betrayal of grief rip through your flesh, your bones, your blood and your DNA. For you, woman, you do not fear death, you do not fear truth, you do not fear the mirror and you certainly do not fear the power of your love.

Let this judgemental flame ignite you. Allow their hunt for your soul, to BRING YOU BACK to yours.

Let the triggered wounds stir you and open you.

DO NOT shut down your heart dear woman, let the arrows penetrate the guard you have kept for many lifetimes. For we need your heart in this world now more than ever.

To be a woman, means that you are capable of sitting with the darkest of the dark.

To be a woman, means you are capable of nurturing the ones who have lost their way.

To be a woman, means you know death and rebirth intimately.

To be a woman, means you bring compassion to mistakes owned.

To be a woman, means you honor the wounds of the sister, mother, the lover and the friend.

To the woman reading this.

May you find your way in these words.

I hope you can feel the pain we can cause one another and make a choice to nurture the sister who has lost her way or needs your strength and compassion, rather than discard her with poisonous arrows.

May you ignite spaces and circles of nurturement and compassion rather than casting out another with gossip.

I hope you can find it in your wisdom to speak to the ones who need you most, rather than turning your back on them.

I hope you can sit with your wounds and see a road covered in love, rather than a field full of discarded shame.

To you, my friend my sister

I will sit with you when you rage.

I will caress the shame you feel.

I will hear the pain leave from your quivering voice.

I will watch your heart break open to the wisdom of your essence.

I will witness and accept you in your light and dark. And I ask you do the same for me.

From one woman to another,

Paula