I had a terrible dream this week. There were three distinct story lines, and in each scenario, I was in a helpless, “less than” situation with a man. But surprisingly, I wasn’t fighting it. It was a helplessness that I had given into. I had surrendered to it. In one of the stories, I was sleeping on the sidewalk with an ex-boyfriend standing by me, annoyed. He was making business deals next to his sports car and he kept kicking at me as I was rolling around in a dirty blanket. In another, my ex-husband was screaming at my child as I held her in my arms and I just sat there, doing nothing. I was motionless, just watching. I felt flooded with emotion, yet motionless. This one was the most difficult because it was closest to reality that I have lived in waking moments. I was both grief-stricken and panicked at the same time.
Around the time I decided to end my marriage, I had a similar dream where I was molested by a doctor at an appointment, but I was letting it happen. I didn’t want it to be happening, but I did nothing to stop it. And I realized that I have learned this helplessness from my own mother, from society, from the ancestral understanding of the role of women that I was born with. And I’m tired of it.
I’m tired of going along, I’m tired of keeping my mouth shut, I’m tired of trying to fit myself into your world so that you aren’t inconvenienced. I’m exhausted of smothering myself so that I don’t make too much noise and make you uncomfortable. I’m tired of apologizing even when I’m not sorry. I’m weary of saying nothing because I’m too scared of getting in “trouble”. I’m tired of wrenching myself around other people’s needs and plans so that I can figure out a way to make myself more acceptable.
In years past, it scared me to identify as the kind of woman that would be on the offensive, or to loudly protest a clear injustice. I couldn’t allow myself to put on a cape and step into my own power. But my child was getting yelled at while I sat idly by, and I was in constant fear of making a wave. And I realized that I had to make a different choice.
I got my tarot read for the first time in February. I didn’t really understand anything about tarot, but in a desperate state, I showed up at this place in Sedona and met a beautiful woman who read my cards. The first card was the Magician, which is the art of manifesting. And then she said, “But what this means for YOU, is the power of choice. We are after you taking control of your life. There are seven words to give up – wish, want, could, hope, try, need, desire – all of those are pretend words. And what you replace those words with is the word ‘choose’. I choose or I choose not. That’s all”.
When I woke up the other morning after these awful dreams, I was indignant. My immediate reaction was, “oh no you don’t – we aren’t that helpless woman”. I started making up speeches with people in my life where my needs are not being respected, practicing ways of telling them that I will no longer stand idly by waiting for them to see me. I woke up in a rage.
And I woke up realizing that I have spent the last several years choosing a different path. It may not have been a dramatic overnight transformation, but I have chosen ME – The act of freedom is an act of choice. And we ALL have the power to choose. When we stop wishing, hoping, wanting a different outcome and we instead choose a different outcome, we step into our power. We become the main character in our life and we achieve the results we envision.