A creative writing from July 2022
Like the sound of waves crashing against the shore during a storm
As if a train is hurling down the tracks at a pace a bit faster than it should be going
Reminiscent of the way the trees crack against each other and the leaves shutter and dance when a thunderstorm rolls through
Similar to the loud crackling of a bonfire with the unpredictable sparks that snap as they float up into the sky
I feel it
Starting out subtle and quiet
I feel it
Growing in urgency
I feel it
Overwhelming my senses
I feel it
Embed itself in my neurons
I feel it
My body flooded with energy from the messaging coded into my neural pathways
I feel it
Fury
Trigger Warning: References of sexual assault, rape and abuse.
There’s a new song that was just released last Friday; Labour by Paris Paloma
The teaser for the song release is ~30 seconds of the bridge and has just over 26 THOUSAND unique videos made on TikTok. (At the time of me writing this.) The song has 255K listens in the first 24 hours from being released. Perhaps it’s not a lot compared to other amazing artists, but clearly the music isn’t ‘just a bop’ and the lyrics are meaningful to many right now.
The lyrics are intense and this song is not applicable to my current day-to-day life, but it sure makes a previous version of myself feel seen. Some of these lyrics you’ll see highlighted throughout this newsletter.
You see, I grew up in the evangelical church through the 90’s and early 2000’s. I was spoon fed the purity movement, had a purity ring and did everything I could to be as modest as possible to ensure I was worthy enough to find a loving husband. I was eager to listen to every sermon, take every note in the Wednesday night youth group and identify the ‘rules’ that if followed would ensure I’d earn the right to a loving partner and husband in my life. In my young mind, I’d determined that if I…
Am always in service of others
Put others’ needs before my own
‘Save myself’ and remain modest because I should be a gift to my future husband. (As in my entire self - body, mind and soul would be all to serve my husband.)
Stayed quiet-ish by only having opinions to be entertaining but not voicing them loud enough to be heard and respected
… then I’d find everything I’d been promised and was in search of.
"Nymph, then a virgin, nurse and a servant
Just an appendage, live to attend him"
My purity ring was quickly tarnished. I got a ride home from someone I thought I could trust when I was 15, I went to his house because he threatened me when I was 17 and I took a sip of the beer he handed to me when I was 19.
And in each of those instances, I didn’t dare tell anyone because the shame of not living within the rules, the shame of being impure and no longer being a ‘whole’ gift to my husband was simply too much to bear.
When I met my first husband, he said he could look beyond my ‘indiscretions’ and I took a sigh of relief as my brain told me I’d done it. I’d finally earned the love and acceptance I thought I’d never have a chance to experience as a ‘tarnished’ woman.
And then eventually, he held my past assaults/rape against me. He was so angry with me for setting boundaries in our intimacy saying he shouldn’t have the pay the price for another mans sins.
I told myself I deserved the judgment. I would just work harder to be a better wife. Despite the burning anger that swirled in my belly, I bit my tongue when I’d wake up to him passed out on the couch with porn playing on his cell phone. I felt an intense sense of dread whenever he told me I needed to bear him sons so he could pass on his legacy. I exhausted myself to make sure his clothes were clean and I cooked custom meals and packed lunches for him based on his ever-changing diet. Even though I was the primary income source for our household because I worked multiple jobs when he’d lose his, it was still my responsibility to maintain the home, our chores, meal planning & cooking, social planning and so on. And of course, I can’t forget my “duty” to be a pleasing wife. A frequent reminder paired with scripture to enforce his request and my submission.
"Twenty-four-seven baby machine
So he can live out his picket fence dreams
It's not an act of love if you make her
You make me do too much labour"
I was angry.
I was overwhelmed with fear of abandonment.
I was flooded with shame.
And so I stayed silent.
Because the messaging that was played on repeat in various formats, spoken by various pastors and leaders and teachers and speakers was ultimately that; I exist to serve. And only with great service will I deserve to be loved.
“For somebody I thought was my saviour
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour”
Today when I hear these lyrics, they just hit differently. Because I’ve lived it.
When I listen to the song, I’m reminded of the swirling fury in my belly and the teeth marks permanently pressed into my tongue. Although there are likely many others that have unfortunately, lived similar experiences, I think there is something more to the ~26K users that made videos to this song. It seems as if there’s a general awakening to the bubbling emotion of anger that many of us have swallowed down time and time again.
Each time someone finds out their insurance premiums are going to cost more.
Each visit to the grocery store to buy the same exact items but somehow it costs 10% more.
Each “last minute meeting” being added to the calendar that results in more work to be done.
Each after hours request to ‘hop on a quick call’ taking up more time.
Each news notification that reflects more freedoms and rights being violated or taken away.
I think each of these and so much more, are feeding that growing rumble of anger amongst us all. A quick google search of, “Why are so many people angry today?” returned many results and the first 10 are all from the last 2-3 years. All of which highlight increased stress, the isolation of a pandemic, and barrage of non-stop media being pieces that feed the growing anger. This doesn’t even account for the human rights violations and ever expanding wealth disparities.
For years, I have lived under the false belief that I am not allowed to have emotions. That if I express any emotion in any way, I’m dramatic and exaggerating. Anger though, is the absolute worst to show or express. And so I bottled it up deep and never taught myself to identify the emotion OR what to do to express that emotion.
Fast forward 15 years from the first moment my purity ring was tarnished and I’ve got 47 suitcases full of anger that haven’t been felt or expressed. These suitcases aren’t real by any means, but imagine if all 26K+ users were walking around with 47 suitcases everywhere they went and just like the airport, no one can leave their bags unattended.
I also did a little search trying to find something ‘good’ about anger. I looked up, “What are the benefits of anger?” and there are lists upon lists of, “X Benefits of Being Angry”, nearly all of which say it can be motivating, impactful and sometimes used as a negotiation tactic.
Back in 2018 when I set out to find my therapist, I was in a consultation and I used the blanket statement, “I have anger problems.” I was angry at everything. I was angry my mom died. I was angry I was divorced and that created a perception of failure. I was angry that it was such a hard uphill battle to find a therapist. I was angry that my shoe came untied - as if the shoe did it on purpose to incite me.
“What do you think your anger is trying to tell you?”, my therapist asked.
Well shit.
I hadn’t thought about it that way.
In the last 5 years, I’ve learned that when I’m angry, it’s most often a symptom of something else entirely.
It’s grief that I can’t ask my mom about her menstrual cycle when mine is being weird.
It’s disappointment that something didn’t go the way I planned it.
It’s fear when the idiot is driving 10 over the speed limit on sheer ice.
It’s sadness when I have to uphold and reiterate a boundary I wish would simply be respected.
Anger is often the first warning light on my dashboard to let me know something isn’t quite right. And that shows up physically in my body. There was a season of my life where I’d refer to my anger as “the hulk”. (Sometimes I still do - I’m a work in progress.) Every time I’d be angry, I’d start crying because I didn’t know any other way to release the emotion and it consumed me. I don’t think this was because I was the ‘basic’ angry, I think it’s because I’d been carrying around too many suitcases of anger for too long and now, I’m confronted with fury.
Perhaps it’s just my perception (or projection), but it seems we’ve all been told anger is a ‘bad’ emotion and that expressing anger isn’t allowed. I see a new generation rising up though, learning to embrace all feelings including anger because their parents are teaching them it’s okay to feel the feels. Anger isn’t ‘bad’ - it’s a part of who you are as a human.
Whether you relate to the song/lyrics of Labour or not, I encourage you to explore why you may be feeling anger. There are a million reasons to point the finger to this or that which is the source of the anger in the moment. But, there’s healing and power that can come from looking inward at the root of the anger first. Where is it stemming from? What is it telling you?
When I realize that my anger is really just a part of me, it’s an opportunity for me to self-validate and allow those identified feelings to exist in my body and ultimately, let them (and the suitcase) go.
What suitcases are you lugging around with you?
What is your anger trying to tell you?
Love you, friend.