Wounded, but Standing

Greetings,

As always, I hope that this post finds you well. I have honestly been struggling over the past few days. I had to come to the realization that although I am healed from certain traumas, I will always carry the scar and those scars can be quite tender and can still cause pain, even be reopened when not guarded and protected. I have had to make some decisions regarding those I allow in my personal space this week. It is painful but necessary. There is no way that I can subject myself to anyone who questions the validity of things that I openly shared with them- things that have forever changed me as an individual.

We have all had experiences that were painful, even traumatic. Hearing the stories of so many women who have experienced similar trauma is heartbreaking and it also peels back my own scars, causing me to really seek solace and peace within. In years past, a bottle of liquor was salve, but now I have other means of dealing with my anxieties and pain from all that has happened. It seems every time that I have sought what I needed outside of myself, I have been left feeling more hurt and regret for not only what happened but, for who I would have been if that ugliness had never occurred.

I know that this year holds much promise but, there will also be strife. I am already feeling it and it is not comfortable. But, I also understand that space must be created in order to make room for all that is to come. I have felt that I was on the brink of something big for the past few months so, I am being patient until it comes to fruition. I also am going to make even more efforts to be of assistance to all the black girls and women who have suffered or continue to suffer because of what was done to them.  The world can blame them and shame them but, I will uplift them, love them, encourage them, and enlighten them.

I have been fortunate enough to have the courage to speak, to share, to write, to do about things that a lot of people would not dare to. I  used to see my life as one big tumult- a never-ending story line of tragedy and pain. But, not now. I see my life as a testament to a spirit that refuses to give up or give in. My life is decorated with times of near death, almost this, and wouldn’t have that. In this society , I have been labeled almost every stereotype that is- the child born out of wedlock, the welfare child, the teenage mom, the battered wife, the rape victim, and so on. But, I am a creator and the author of my life. I am a woman, an overcomer, a survivor, a conqueror, a writer, a poet, a spiritual guide, an oracle, a teacher, a leader, a mother, and so much more. And I am just getting started.

Peace,

Ashaki

 

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Peace loved ones. As always, I hope and pray you all are well and experiencing joy and peace and all wonderful emotions. This blog post is not going to be like any of the other posts I have ever made before but I feel it is necessary because the issue is pertinent in our community but is often swept under the rug.

Molestation and other sexual abuses of our youth is an issue within our communities and we desperately need to deal with it. The most recent case that has been showing up in multiple online news sites, YouTube, etc involves Afrika Bambataa. Numerous men have raised accusations against him and it is down right sickening. We all are aware of R Kelly and many others who have seemingly gotten away with this very disturbing crime.

I personally was molested as a child—once by an older childhood friend and on another occasion  by a friend of our family who was like an uncle to me. I was raped at age 20 by a childhood friend. It has taken me years to speak those words or allow myself to acknowledge what really was done. Initially, I denied the feelings of insecurity and ugliness I felt.  I denied those things have even happened. I drank terribly and numbed myself to the buried memories. But, I realize that I needed to deal with it. I needed to cry, scream, to feel. The predators who took away my preciousness and exposed me to their disgusting desires deserve punishment, not protection.

The bravery of all of those who have been through these situations is very encouraging. I realize that their courage has inspired me. But, I also realize that we as a community must confront this issue. We cannot continue to speak out about oppression and liberation if we are not honest and brave enough to deal with the ugliness that lives under our own roof. Many of these predators live in our communities, some in our own homes. They attend the mosque or the church. They are uncles, aunts, cousins, sisters, brothers, fathers. I personally do not care what position they hold, what their reputation is, how popular they are, how much money they have. They need to be exposed and dealt with—point, blank, period. And those that are victimized, should be supported, loved, and never intimidated for their truth. Children are the reward of life as the old African proverb says. We have failed as a community, leaving the blameless emotionally scarred and sometimes they even become abusers themselves. Let us be accountable. For the brothers and sisters who have spoken out, much love and respect to you and to those who protect the predator, remember that Karma will find you. Let’s break this vicious cycle and end this wickedness once and for all!

 

 

Ankh, Udja, Seneb (Life, Health, & Prosperity),

Ashaki Ma’at Mirembe Ali

The Tru Lioness

 

Photo cred: Michael Ackerman