"I think women are scared of feeling powerful and
strong and brave sometimes. There’s nothing wrong with being afraid. It’s not
the absence of fear, it’s overcoming it and sometimes you just have to blast
through and have faith.” - Emma Watson
As women, all
we've at any point been strictly asked to do, as far back as we were young girls
who looked up to our elders for direction, is to talk delicately, obey without
addressing, sit like a woman, bring down our look, and never cuss - among such
a large number of other Do's and Don'ts that managed everything we might do.
Skipping forward
to 2018, the young ladies inside us now know not to be advised to quiets down
and take a seat, and there's no ceasing our thunders, as we make firm and
decided strides towards sexual orientation balance. We might be covered, and society
will attempt to force their characteristic man centric attitudes on us, however
the upheaval surges on over the world, and there's no halting us now.
Here we are
fighting for equality and justice.
Empowering each other in the process of
becoming not superior but equivalent. But how about the things we never talked
about!?
How about those dark secrets buried deep down in our hearts, making it
hard to breathe!?
We all have a
basement in our lives where we put stuff which we never again need to take a
gander at however in the meantime we would prefer not to relinquish.
What's
more, some of the time we do need to experience those dusty stairs of our own
inside basements to reckon with our own history. Some awful recollections, some
broken promises, few unspoken words and a lot of disasters and dark secrets.
Mine are quite
ordinary and, in the fantastic plan of things, hell awful!
Be that as it
may, don't we all have our own stories and plethora of deep dark secrets!?
There was that
one maternal uncle who relatively assaulted me and left me crying on the
washroom's floor. Wet in my own sweat and blood! Waiting for somebody to come
and protect me.
So trust me, when I say I've been in hell without knowing its
genuine meaning, I'm dead serious!
I felt helpless,
frightened and stuck!
I remember the
first guy I at any point dated, who went behind my back with not only one as
well as three distinct ladies. What's more, yes he wanted to get married to me
and keep me forever and with those young ladies he was simply taking a couple
of adventurous rides of rollercoaster.
Well, that’s what I have been told!
And yes
it hurt.
It hurt progressively when I was intending to go through as long as I
can remember with a man who is banging each other woman in his way.
Yet again I felt
helpless, frightened and stuck!
Once an auto
driver attempted to take favourable advantages of me and took me to those desolate
streets where I got no one to help me.
And that’s when
I fought back. I scratched his face with my nails, I thrash the shit out of him
with his own steel water bottle and he ran away.
I got back home,
sat on my washroom floor under my shower and cried for hours.
Oh my goodness,
the last person I was in love with and who guaranteed me to keep me like a queen.
He tried to control me, he place tracers in my phone, he treated me like crap,
he made recordings of me crying on his bed, house arrested me, tortured me for
days. He demonstrated love and after that tossed me hard on his bed. He said I
was his Shakti and afterward he hold me with my hair and picked hands on me.
He
humiliated me, insulted me, threatened me, blackmailed me to tell everything to
my mom and posted my pictures on social media, and pointed fingers at my
character.
I trusted him
and thought that maybe he is the person who can be my superhero, who will save
me from everything terrible and spare me from this malicious world. I
completely overlooked that it was he and individuals like him, I was fleeing
from.
The fascinating fairy tale didn’t stay same and things turned out real ghastly
and shitty.
The most
exceedingly terrible part isn't what all happened and it was me who let him did
that to me. It's the way he put this on me. Like it's a fault and curse to be a
woman in this world!
Those things
happened. On the continuum of horrendous, they were highly terrible. I spent
each day of my life tormented by the recollections. Indeed, I've gone months,
even years, without pondering how that uncle's finger harmed me down there in
my vagina and how my last sweetheart pressed my face with his hands like I'm
his personal slave.
In any case,
those encounters, exclusively and by and large, sent a specific message. About
my worth. About a woman’s place. Its altogether been in the basement, there yet
not there.
Furthermore,
that is when and where I understood its lone me that must be my own superhero.
In spite of the fact that I was frightened yet not vulnerable any longer!
I promised
myself to never stall out with something I can't push ahead from.
There were the
majority of the guys, over every one of the years, who've said or shouted or
whispered stuff while I was out on the roads, purchasing stuff or waiting for cabs;
however that’s just the background noise to every woman’s life, the cost of
being in a female body.
I've likewise
known a lot of good men. In my previous 5 and half year in this enormous metro
city, I ran over a portion of the best folks in the whole world. There have
been men who employed me, supervised me and worked with me who were only
fitting, kind and empowering. There were men who turned into my best pals and
who shared my chai-sutta space with me. There were associates who got me sanitary
pads when I was bleeding heavily in office.
Along these
lines when I began to consider that minute where we'd all lounge around the
table, expressing gratefulness, and I started to ponder what I could earnestly
be appreciative for after this unpleasant, horrendous, no great awful events of
life, my psyche went to those folks. The mentors who didn't snatch or grab. The
instructors who showed young ladies and didn't target them. There are bunches
of good men, and I'm thankful to them.
Staying in line
in the work environment shouldn't be troublesome. Talking truth to control?
That remaining parts hard. Rather than being thankful to the men who did the
base, we have to empower our young girls and let them realize that they are their
own saviours.
They are all commendable
and that no man is superior to them.
No, I clearly
don't need young ladies to endeavour just to be superheroes, somebody like
Wonder lady or so. However, I do want them to trust that they have the quality
and strength to be the one if they could!
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