I am homesick for a place I am not sure even exists. One where my heart is full. My body loved. And my soul understood.
Ancient moon priestesses were called virgins. ‘Virgin’ meant not married, not belonging to a man - a woman who was ‘one-in-herself’. The very word derives from a Latin root meaning strength, force, skill; and was later applied to men: virle. Ishtar, Diana, Astarte, Isis were all called virgin, which did not refer to sexual chastity, but sexual independence. And all great culture heroes of the past, mythic or historic, were said to be born of virgin mothers: Marduk, Gilgamesh, Buddha, Osiris, Dionysus, Genghis Khan, Jesus - they were all affirmed as sons of the Great Mother, of the Original One, their worldly power deriving from her. When the Hebrews used the word, and in the original Aramaic, it meant ‘maiden’ or ‘young woman’, with no connotations to sexual chastity. But later Christian translators could not conceive of the ‘Virgin Mary’ as a woman of independent sexuality, needless to say; they distorted the meaning into sexually pure, chaste, never touched.
Monica Sjoo, The Great Cosmic Mother: Rediscovering the Religion of the Earth (via thewastedgeneration)
and they say words mean nothing…
re-run of nightmare
advanced weaponry sharper images
less future than before
it will make you sick to be strong enough for more
I remember the battles I’d fought in my head, tournaments of tug of war: “Solé, if you do this your parents will kill you!” “What if it ends up haunting you?” “What if the tape prevents you from getting a job” etc… etc….. But then I remember that all of me is mine. Who I am supposed to be (in the context of race and gender) has been dictated to me for as long as I can remember. I am habitually told what a woman can and cannot do, what Black people can and cannot do, what Blackness looks like, what it feels like, what we fuck like, what we love like. Manufactured understandings of race and gender have permeated the very essence of my being… So hear my roaring moan of protest listen as I publicly take back the parts of me that society continually tries to negate, marginalize, undermine, and ignore. Understand that all of me is mine. My body, my soul, my voice, my clitoris, my uterus, my Blackness is mine and it is not up to you (to society, to my family, to religion, to my friends) to decide what I can I cannot do with it, and it is not up to anyone, but me, to decide how and where I can display it.