The Birth of a Goddess!
By: Zenobia Bryant, Ph.D.
Trigger warning! The following blog post contains references to a sexual assault!
Growing up, I learned that my womanhood was something that needed to stay hidden like a well-kept secret. It seemed the fact I was born with two x chromosomes reduced me to nothing more than an object. Religious tradition taught me that my curves should hide in clothes that were two sizes too big. It was my duty to disguise my womanly nature because my silhouette might be an open door for unwanted male advances. I carefully chose my outfits because if I wore anything too revealing no matter how loud I screamed "no," what I honestly meant was "yes."
After he climbed on top of me and fear stole my voice, sealing my mouth shut with the strongest of cement, I told myself it was my fault because my womanly ways invited his lust. Many years later, when I finally chose not to let fear hold my truth hostage any longer, I made a public statement on social media about experiencing rape. I also shared my story with my family. Though they are incredibly supportive, I have had to deal with the idea that people still think there is a difference between rape and putting yourself in harm's way. They see rape as an event that occurs when a woman is attacked in an alley or other deserted area. On the other hand, a woman has put herself in harm's way when she invites a man over or when she goes over to his place. It is as if consent only matters in one of the two situations.
Sharing my story was supposed to be liberating. And it was. But I was surprised at the many misconceptions about rape that still exist. It baffles me that someone can struggle to understand that in both situations, consent was not given. See, rape does not always come from a stranger. Most times, it occurs from someone the victim knows or thinks they know. There are many situations where consent changes mid-act, but the partner ignores the pleas. Or, like in my case, the partner is overpowering, and your body freezes. You get trapped in your body. The place that is usually comfortable becomes a prison cell. Just because I couldn't verbally say "no" does not change the definition of what happened.
For a split second, I wanted to change my story because it seemed like my story was misunderstood, once again. If my experience is misunderstood, then I am misunderstood. As I confided in a dear friend, she told me not to change my story just because other people don't understand or see it the way I do. That resonated in my soul with a resounding echo. My story is my story. I was there, and I am the only one that can tell it.
It bothers me that as a woman, the first thing I am identified as is a sexual object. As an object, I have no say about what happens to me and my body. As an object, I am reduced to usage. But I want the world to see that I am more than an object! I am strong; I am intelligent; I have a purpose; I can lead, and most importantly, I have a voice! I am a Goddess! I am a being with a mind, body, and soul. I am a Goddess! I, too, was made in the likeness and image of God, descendent from a heavenly being. I am a Goddess! The curves on my body were fashioned in the same manner God fashioned the mountain ranges. I am a Goddess! Lightening sent from heaven dances across my hips. I am a Goddess! A jewel is planted between my thighs, the same way a diamond is protected deep within the earth's surface. I am a Goddess!
I can identify your tricks now. Placing the blame for the misuse of our bodies on us was a way to empower your ego. Telling us we were only asking for it takes away our humanity and soothes your conscience. Objectifying us makes it ok to use us up and throw us out with yesterday's news. It's a man's world, and boys will be boys, right? Like greedy colonizers rape the earth for her diamonds, you dig at our thighs to get to the jewels. You leave us bleeding and broken physically and emotionally. Although there may be many different faces of #MeToo, one fact unites all women. We are Goddesses! That jewel you so desperately want is a conduit that leads from eternity into time. Our bodies carry, nurture, and introduce a new life. Thus I am convinced that you are mistaken. We are not objects. We are miracles! We are Goddesses!
