2.15.2012

Love Note to My Muffins: Never Forget

Dearest Muffins,
I know it's hard. I know it hurts.

It can be difficult to squeak out any kind of sparkling existence when it seems that the world can't see you-- that has been specially designed to shame you. To minimize you.

A world that decides for you. Your mind is made up by angry mobs who believe they are Fathers to the World.

-- a world that wants to cut you down and paint you up in an image that is anything but yours. In a world that assures you that one day, you too will be used up and boring and without perfume and 3,000+ positions.

A world that assures you that if you are alone,
your are lonely and lonely is worthless.

-- A world of perpetual fear of the rapist or the abuser lurking at every bus stop and filling station--a world where outside is the danger, and the Danger is Everywhere. Lock your doors. Go nowhere.

It can be painful to maintain your glowing soul-filament in a world that assumes your illnesses are a result of your weakness, your natural frailty or worse a petty cry for attention or figments of a fretful imagination.

--In a world that assumes you are an emotional time bomb, incapable and unstable.

A world that believes you exist in a fantasy bubble of boy trouble, crocodile tears and desperate housewives-- too romantic to consult the brain but relying solely on the gummy bear heart that insults the Spirit.

A world where success is synonymous with maleness. Tallness. Whiteness. Richness. If you play the game by their rules you are flawed. And if you refuse to play, you're a failure.

It can be devastating to think yourself a leviathan and be constantly reminded that somehow, in defiance of all logic, you are still consulted as an infantalized minority.

--A world that gives you BLACK and WHITE options:
bitch. whore. bimbo. slut. femnazi. prude.

When all you really want to be is purple.
And left alone.

It can be hard to go on when the world can't understand why you hurt.
That doesn't want to see the discrepancy.
That can't get a grip on why you're angry.


It can break your heart, Muffins.


We know better than this. We Are Better Than This.

We are better than this because we will never forget our Sacred nature--that we are shimmering writhing creatures that build cities and spit fire and see the future.

We are better than this because when it appears all hope is lost, we do not snivel and surrender. Instead we become biplanes and grappling hooks.

We will never be extinguished because we travel in Packs. We're just too fast.

We are better than this because we know that flaccid magazine pages are mere cartoons of our glory and we are beautiful in ways that haven't even been invented yet.

We are spry foxes with lipstick and eagle eyes that
read and research and remember EVERYTHING.

We are better because we are magicians: bringing something to where there was once nothing. We make light work of Lazurus, resurrecting ourselves again and again. Reinventing ourselves on the daily. Effortlessly Healing our own wounds while providing witty cocktail conversation.

We will not be corralled and crushed by the insane suits making cake out of our fears because they will be held accountable, have their ankles gnawed and driven out of town.

We are better because we are just as mean as we are pretty. Just as fierce as we are sumptuous. And better dancers than most.

We will not be snuffed as we are all ravishingly decorated with the scars of war and they have made us stunning, sinewy, tough and cunning.

Never forget it, Muffins.




3 comments:

Carrie Wachter~Martinez said...

You're the best! Break free from their molds and their ideals and Be Real! We are all uniquely beautiful! Sending love to all my real sisters <3

Shell said...

You rock, Molly. I needed to hear this today.

catherine elizabeth said...

seriously crying right now. beautiful.

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