Marching for What?

women march

Pssst, have you heard? About the march? Women from all walks of life and corners of the country traveled to Washington DC and other cities to march on behalf of every jilted, cheated, mis-treated and over-looked woman on the planet this past weekend. You know, the women who feel as if they have zero rights. The ones who’ve been squished down and stepped on or mistreated by those horrible creatures called men.

Now, I’m not saying it’s not possible that any of these gals have ever felt any of those feelings. There are a lot of females on this planet and each one has lived a life full of moments and who’s to say which ones have been positive or negative? Not me.

I wasn’t even in school yet the first time I was sexually molested, by a man. It wouldn’t be the last time either. It’s impossible to understand the attraction of an adult to a little child. But, many crave just that…an innocent human being without a voice.

Sexual abuse wouldn’t be my only horror growing up. I’ve written about it many times, verbal/physical/emotional abuse were all a part of my world. I don’t admit any of this to seek compassion or empathy but to point out just how confusing the ugliness of the women screaming in the streets felt this weekend.

What in the world?

Why? Stop trying to convince us that women are so mistreated and unfairly judged when you’re wearing vagina costumes, cursing, carrying insulting & obscene signs and excluding women who believe abortion is wrong.

I have every right to hate. I have every right to be angry, to cry, to feel mistreated, to feel abused, to feel the pain that comes from the worst kind of treatment.

Yet, I don’t.

Maybe it’s because I’m 50 years old and I’ve come to grips with the abuse that was committed against me. I’ve beaten the demons that swooshed over me and tried to steal my whole life from me all because someone else used me as a piece of garbage. I can say that what happened to me wasn’t ever my fault. I don’t own the guilt of the crime someone else forced on me. I’m not their victim, any more.

I have no qualms with anyone marching for a cause that’s real and true, but do it with all the righteousness that comes from genuine truth. Don’t jumble up your message with filth and ugliness that is stretched beyond what an intelligent society can comprehend. People don’t see you as doing a good work when you’re shouting half-truths or embellishments.

Who really knows what this weekend’s message was? Some have screamed insults towards President Trump, others went on about their bodies being their own (indeed, ladies), some held signs about equal rights….most of it was lost in translation. I can’t help but feel like it was a smear on the political status we find ourselves in as a country.

I get it. Donald Trump wasn’t the person these marchers wanted as their President. There’s not a thing any of us can do, except pray that he leads with a character that blows us all away. The day of choosing a leader has come and gone. The country has spoken with a Republican back in the White House. Get over it. It is what it is.

As the news continues to focus on the march, the rap performances….the jumping up and down of women passionate about their stance – I can’t help but think of the many girls and women all around us that are truly mistreated and abused. Say what you want about this country, we aren’t marrying off our little girls to old men. We aren’t living in neighborhoods that are ravaged by armies of men raping us and murdering our husbands and sons in front of us. We never have to fear or cover our heads and faces out of shame. We can drive, vote, work, not work, live as a gay person, act like a slut, walk around half-naked in public, have as many children as we want, protect ourselves and our kids, make more money than our husbands, be feminine or not, spend our money how we see fit, support who we want politically, go to church/not go to church, worship WHOMEVER we wish whenever we wish, own a Bible, marry whoever we want and the list goes on & on.

We are not oppressed. We are not forgotten. We are not silenced. We are not victims.

So, my message to you who feel it’s your job to set the world straight…. knock it off! Wake up and smell the truth. The reality of what our lives really looks like is nothing like what I’ve watched on my tv this weekend.

If you want to cry out for injustices, think about the ones trapped and or captured in sex trafficking. Look out for the innocent babies that are murdered every single day just because they are an inconvenience or felt to be unwanted. Stick up for the abused children, the molested…the burned and beaten. Walk a mile in the shoes of a military widow or a woman disfigured by a horrible abusive mate. These are real and true injustices.

Women are more powerful than you think. And it doesn’t take a march on a public square to prove it.

wo

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