too long searching
for ways to escape this cocoon
to spread wings wide, no longer hide
my being, my heart, my life.
Aching to find my way home
to this body, through this voice
no more asking permission
to be me, know myself
be at one with destiny.
Today, International Women’s Day
in honor of women born before
in thanks to women here now
I offer a prayer, a divine mandala
color of freedoms and dreams.
Bless this awaited return
to the roots of our sacred knowing
that while our days are numbered
our presence will be counted
in courage bared, in love shared.
For when we stand, live out loud
rescue our trampled souls
we heal the spirit within
to humbly transform, to proudly say
I’ve been a woman.
I am so excited to announce that a new chapter of In the Words of Womyn will be coming soon to the Heart of Texas! Please stay tuned here for more details about the dates and location.
I celebrate my sisters
who put pen to paper
and
give sound to our story
and volume to our voice
creating a collective consciousness
unified in the vision
of womyn writers and
poets and
artists and
leaders and
thinkers and
doers
I celebrate my mothers
who drew lines in the sand
stepping out of binding gender roles
and into the fullness
of their own
beautiful
strong
independent
intelligent
creative
ambitious
selves
I celebrate my grandmothers
who picketed lines
and went on strike
who endured
hunger
persecution
torture
excommunication
isolation
and
abuse
for the right to have
a voice and
a vote
I celebrate my great-grandmothers
and their mothers
and their mothers’ mothers
womyn throughout all of herstory
who blazed new trails
who would not keep silent
who refused to be diminished
who kept on writing
under men’s names
in secret
under threats of violence–even death
who would
just
not
relent
so that I can
grip this mic
speak my soul
and
become my self
from so many different angles
of our upbringing–
media,
society,
religion–
something has always told us
that as women,
we are responsible
to keep everything
we present to the world
pretty,
neat,
tidy,
delicious,
lovely,
attractive,
and
desirable—
from our bodies
to our dinner tables
this notion
has been ingrained
into the innermost parts
of our minds
of our being
but
inequality is not pretty
depression is not neat
grief is not tidy
oppression is not delicious
abuse is not lovely
injustice is not attractive
and
disappointment is not desirable
Often,
the truth is ugly
and
honesty unsightly
but
let us
break the bonds
of what society has called
“beautiful”
let us
re-image a standard of
stunning
let us be true to our souls
let us love our bodies
let us relinquish “should be”
let us embrace our imperfections
let us give volume to our voices
let us be authentic
let us be whole
let us be ourselves
unapologetically.
For my nieces, that they might be themselves with joyful abandon. For all the womyn I know who are themselves, apologetically. For all the men who know how to cherish real beauty.
In the Words of Womyn celebrates it’s first birthday! Wooohooo!
What an incredible first year we had! In January 2010, ITWOW was born out of conversations and experiences and a passion for empowering the voices of womyn everywhere. ITWOW began as a writing circle workshop and grew into this website featuring online publications of womyns’ writings. As I reflect upon 2010, I celebrate abundance: the completion of three, 10-week sessions of ITWOW workshops held at Tia Chucha’s Centro Cultural; over 25 womyn having participated in those workshops throughout the year; over 75 writings having been published on this site; and countless testimonies having been shared by womyn who are finding their words, their voices, their true selves!
I am overwhelmed by the honor and privilege it is to share with my sisters in this adventure of writing, growing, and healing. In the Words of Womyn has become one of the greatest delights of my life; it is a gift of priceless worth to my soul.
I extend my deepest gratitude to Tia Chucha’s for providing me with space, support, and nurturing–without which I would not be able to develop, host, and continue the work of In the Words of Womyn. I offer my utmost respect and sincerest appreciation to each of the womyn who have dared to share herself by telling her story, by participating in the workshops, by stepping up to the mic, and by publishing on this site.
I have been so profoundly inspired, encouraged, affirmed, nurtured, and blessed by this incredible community of writers that I truly stand in awe. There is healing that may not have been stirred; there is new life that may not have been coaxed; there are poems that I would not have written; there is courage I may not have found; and there is a me I might not have discovered, had it not been for ITWOW.
So thank you all and may we continue to give sound to our stories and volume to our voices in this new year!
“…be attentive to what is arising within you, and place that above everything else…What is happening in your innermost self is worthy of your entire love; somehow you must find a way to work at it.
~Rainer Maria Rilke
…Innermost self…worthy of your entire love…
Empowerment. Ultimately we are the only ones who can give ourselves permission to love, “what is rising within us,” above everything else. How many among us are able to grant ourselves that? I was born into a culture that revers ideals that represent the opposite of what Rilke encourages; self-sacrifice & martyrdom are fed to us, especially to females from the time of conception.
We are guided and prized along a path of continuous service. Service to our parents, our siblings, our faith. All needs, wants, desires, that rise within us are set aside to attend to the others: warm your father’s and brother’s tortillas; wash their dishes; do their laundry; make their beds; sweep the floors; mop…an endless circular list of chores. The older attend to the younger, females to males, younger to elderly.
We are encouraged to yearn for the day we will be the zero to the right of a man that will choose us based on our virginal worth. A silent partner that will give him courage, strength, and value. To raise our children in line with the values we have been raised with.
We have, many of us, been raised to distrust what may ever happen in our “innermost self.” We are provided with stories of fallen women, social discards, continuing examples of what could happen to us.
And then there are those among us who–so loved, were they, for their uniqueness by their mothers, fathers, a “strange” aunt or grandparent–were allowed, and who allowed themselves to escape to their innermost selves!
I will not hide my laughter–
I will let smile burst forth
and shine upon those in whom I delight
I will not be robbed
of my light and my joy,
I will glow in spite of
those who would snuff me out
I will not cower in fear–
for those who prowl
and lurk
cloaked in the coward’s cover of dark
shall have no power over me
I will not shrink with shame–
I will walk tall and courageous
for I did not inflict this wound
but I have chosen
to heal
to become stronger
to not stay silent
to thrive
I will not diminish the curves of my body–
I am a vibrant and phenomenal woman
My figure does not give anyone permission
to leer
to trespass
to plunder at will
I am mine,
to give and
to share
upon my word
I will not hoard my trust–
I will discern those
who are worthy
from those
who are undeserving,
I will not punish all
for the crimes of a few
I will not make myself less
because all that I am
makes some uncomfortable,
I will live
and love
and laugh
and hope
with every exquisite
inch of my soul
and will do so
with resilient abandon.
To my potential-but-not-guaranteed or wholly essential future male life-partner
I come with a proposal
That if we commit to walking down an aisle of marriage
We commit to walking in a certain kind of life
First order of business:
Let’s take an axe and chop down that white picket fence they told us we must live with
And with it let’s burn a fire so hot that we can finally melt that shining armor that Sleeping Beauty cast upon you
Because baby, I am not a damsel in distress
I am not a genetically inferior piece of flesh
I am a woman and I am strength
And surely, I am also mortal dust and weakness too
And there are days when despair weighs so heavily upon my chest that I doubt the possibility of just one more breath
But please don’t try to be my life support when I fear the forces of death
Instead, breathe life with me when I don’t believe in it
Hope with me when I sure as hell don’t see it
Be with me and not in front of me
Surround me but do not cover me
And I will pledge to do nothing but the same to you
Because if my form of feminism is just me taking you over as a head
Then our relationship will still have a violent end
So let us share life together
As the fibers of one flexible neck,
as nurturing breasts upon a single chest
as open hands and not closed fists
as feet that walk in peace when they would rather kick
Cause baby I’ve got big plans
Like us washing the dishes together
You mopping the bathroom floor as I scrub the countertop
And me pumping the basketball as you drive to the court for our next one-on-one
Darling, I’ve got galactic dreams
Of doing silly things like baking for the high schoolers from that sucky-ass garage band
Having the neighbor and his annoying dog over for dinner instead of poisoning it like we sure as hell want to
And listening to the stories of that elderly couple over and over again until we know it better than them
Honey, I want to go to lots of places like
Across the street to the local businesses
Down the corner to the bus stop
And up the road to the park
My love, if we adopt or have children I want to raise them with GREAT ideas
Like…not hating gay people
My sunshine, I want to accomplish mighty things
Like getting over our need to accomplish
I know they told you that you need to go out there and be a breadwinner
But please come back inside and let’s need knead something together
Let’s bask in the fragrance of un-productivity
As we tell the toxins of busyness to go to hell
Let’s eat the life-giving bread of mutuality and not the feast of domination
Let’s do this until our wrinkles set in and our hands are cracked with the dough of untraditional marriage
And let it be clarified
That this type of life cannot be quantified
It is not heroic and should not be romanticized
It is living simply when America tells us to live large
It is walking in equality rather than taking up patriarchy’s arms
It is sacrifice and working damn well hard
It is eating and breathing and one day dying
And it is in view of this that I say
To my potential-but-not guaranteed or wholly essential future male life-partner
I come with a proposal
That if we commit to walking down an aisle of marriage
We commit to walking in a certain kind of life
Warm Sun
Breeze flowing through
Work-worn
Hands clapping
Life-worn thumb harps
Spring in rapid unison;
Fiddle strings stroked
Slowly up,
Slowly down;
Harmonicas inhaled exhaled;
Double-time guitar strings
Pulled then released swiftly in-between
Children chatter, crying, laughter
Flowing through people drumming
Community humming
Swaying their best give-take joy,
Nutrition to all Souls;
Female, Mother, Grandmother, Auntie, Sister, Woman
Sing life stories in ever-changing solos;
Listening eyes of all the ages reflecting acknowledgment;
Old Gourd, aged wooden box, rusty tin can tones
Strung tightly by animal gut strings
Plucked by people-instruments;
Short strokes to the slow fiddle
Double-time drums
Clapping life-worn hands
Perfectly tuned
To the melody of the heart-strummed guitar;
Male, Father, Grandfather, Uncle, Son, Man
Sing life stories in strong harmony
Reverb through any rib cage.
So much more … this head will explode
Or this mind will unlatch from the dock
And float with the bliss of this
Never to return
To Where am I