The broken spirit

I read a fascinating article this morning by a lady called Emily Gordon. It discussed how as a woman, a passionate, questioning, firey woman, at times, we allow the flames in our soul to be doused to allow the male role in our society to feel he is as expected to be, the hunter gather, in control and we the female if not tamed are ‘too much’.

I have very much put my words in here as I’ve already written this three times trying to use her expressions but she isn’t me and I not her, so please excuse these words if they appear clumsy.

To put this in context, many moons ago I was fire, passion, a large all consuming ball of energy who went through life just like a raging flame. I met a man and fell in love. He fell in love with the woman I was. Over time this all consuming woman found her place in life and the fire grew but this didn’t sit well as it meant I was more and more independent, more self sufficient and happy to make my own decisions about my own life. This meant I no longer needed the hunter gather person to be that. I needed us to be equal and share responsibility, decision making, life. He couldn’t do it. He had been brought up to be the man, be in control, the decision maker and I became ‘too much’.

I felt stifled. I felt the straight jacket placed around my soul. I felt the cold water being trickled on me to put out my flames and I felt lost, lonely and unsure of who I had become. I was broken. This was not his fault. He was simply following what he had been programmed to do, who he was told he was meant to be. His fault was not allowing our relationship freedom and risk being someone else, the person he could be and allowing me to do the same.

Why do we do this? Why do we conform? What do we put in jeopardy all that we have to fit in? 

I am back to being the woman I was, who I always have been under the blanket that society forced upon me to cover myself and I am on fire. This woman is not for dousing! I am strong, I am confident, I am passionate, I am all woman and I love my life. I love being me. I accept all my frailties, my whims, my shape, my size, my foibles. Why? Why not change them? Because, quite simply, they are what make me who I am. I am blessed to now have people in my life who accept me, love me for who I am and work in partnership with me to allow this fire, this passion, this woman, to simply be, to exist, to light up the world in the way she is supposed to. They don’t give me water, they give me fuel to make the flames burn brighter.

Never break anothers spirit and never allow your flame to be extinguished.


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