I see you, young women of the next generation. I see a younger me in you. We are not the same, but we are not all that different. Some of you walk in confidence, while others walk in shame. Most of you walk both these paths, depending on the time and day. Voices screech and scream at you that a certain way you must be. There is but one puppet master. The devil. And he is lying. To you. About you.
Dregs of perpetuated expectations through nations and generations. Bound feet, corsets, stretched necks – distorting through tremendous pain to gain something far from natural. We question “Why would they do that to themselves or to each other?!” as we shake our heads with sadness, wishing they could have seen the damage that could not be undone.
Are we so different in this modern world? I daresay we are not. He lied to them and he lies to us. His tactics may be more refined, but they get the same result. Broken, immobilized, dependent.
He will start with what you look like. An effortless snare. He will tell you that your contributions, your unique perspective, matter when you are somewhere between 15 and 35. If and only if you are the right shape and size.
Look at almost any media outlet and you will see that I am right. Goos, potions, lotions, make-up, machines, treatments . . . making arbitrary promises about miracles they provide. Love, self-esteem, courage, success. Within an instant. Or a day. A week.
Your worth is not found at the bottom of a night cream bottle or in the color of new lipstick.
If your appearance doesn’t work, he will go for your abilities. No matter how hard you have worked and striven, he will whisper you are nothing. He may be quiet for a season – after an achievement perhaps – but his voice will roll back in like the fog. He will point out how everyone is better than you and without you. He will gently tell you that and nobody cares. So gently you are inclined to rest in the lie. He will conjure up proof of your feelings of worthlessness by distorting every circumstance.
Should you survive the quagmire of appearance and talents unscathed, he will slander your character. Then do you the favor of instructing you on how to rebuild yourself to his specifications. Specifications that will weave around your neck and drag you into darkness.
Give people what they want instead of what they need.
Agree with what is popular instead of what is right.
Meek and mild means weak and spineless.
Being callous and vile will get you further than kindness.
Be careful. Oh so careful. Do not believe his lies. Lies told with such subtlety they seem unremarkable to the point of familiarity and normalcy.
Like arrows meant to poison, his deadly venom breaks your skin to embed in your nervous system. Virulent toxins will course through your veins and become your master. Your ability to see your divinity, to remember the source of Love and Light, and to control obsessive thoughts about what you cannot change will all but disappear.
Ropes of self-loathing will slacken now and again, only to wrench you back into his place. Dark. Hopeless. Unhappy. Stagnant. Filled with Comparison and Unattainable Ideals.
He will fight and claw for every millimeter he can. In whatever way necessary.
Because the truth – embraced and emboldened – will destroy him.
The truth is this;
You are a woman. A direct descendant of our glorious Mother Eve. You -we – I – wield the power to direct the future. We are the guardians of the home. We are the nurturers. The gatekeepers. The teachers. The healers. We are God’s crowning creation.
Rise up. Take your rightful place. You are the daughter of a King.