To be a woman is not easy considering the hardship and abuse that a great number of women endure during their lifetime. In this story I will share what some of these hardships was about.
The once ruling patriarchal system for the last two millennia has been declining to give room for a new era, where women have more ‘freedom.’ And, as a teenager I was totally confused about what that meant. In the old system there were so many points of views that did not serve our humanity, which created unresolved conflicts, wars and abuse. And in the new era the role of women was very unclear for me. It seemed that everything was up in the air.
My parents were born just before the Second World War in 1932 and 1936. The times must have been challenging …show more content…
So I think those years growing up were something I did not want to experience ever again. I was well cared for at home, but, going to school meeting other people and beginning puberty was frightening. I was riddled with erratic emotions and thoughts about being a girl. I became a rebel, a tomboy and I felt I could not accept a role of being a woman like it was portrayed 50 years ago. I certainly did not want to be a man, but I wanted the powers that men seemed to have. And, a clear female role model was nowhere to …show more content…
There was blood everywhere. My dress was drenched in it. I remember that dress in detail. It had a sweet bodice with buttons at the side, and a long fluffy skirt down to my ankles. I was barefoot. The narrow sleeves covered my elbows. It had a vertical striped pattern in pale yellow and green. I seem to have liked that dress.
Being alone and helpless in the scorching heat in the moment of death made my mind scream with despair. I felt abandoned, judged and punished for the simple fact that I was pregnant. I probable was not married. In that very moment I promised myself to never be pregnant again. Then, I died like that in a pile of blood.
It took some time to integrate what I had experienced. In whatever way I looked at the situation, it was a clear message from my subconscious mind. I had rejected my female fire in this lifetime. Healing these scars took a long time. But, after the years of healing I feel at peace about my issues in this regard, and welcome any baby coming my way. The final turning point was my sister’s decision to name her second daughter after me: Ida Margherita. Ida was my great grandmother’s name. All that goes around comes around in the
The once ruling patriarchal system for the last two millennia has been declining to give room for a new era, where women have more ‘freedom.’ And, as a teenager I was totally confused about what that meant. In the old system there were so many points of views that did not serve our humanity, which created unresolved conflicts, wars and abuse. And in the new era the role of women was very unclear for me. It seemed that everything was up in the air.
My parents were born just before the Second World War in 1932 and 1936. The times must have been challenging …show more content…
So I think those years growing up were something I did not want to experience ever again. I was well cared for at home, but, going to school meeting other people and beginning puberty was frightening. I was riddled with erratic emotions and thoughts about being a girl. I became a rebel, a tomboy and I felt I could not accept a role of being a woman like it was portrayed 50 years ago. I certainly did not want to be a man, but I wanted the powers that men seemed to have. And, a clear female role model was nowhere to …show more content…
There was blood everywhere. My dress was drenched in it. I remember that dress in detail. It had a sweet bodice with buttons at the side, and a long fluffy skirt down to my ankles. I was barefoot. The narrow sleeves covered my elbows. It had a vertical striped pattern in pale yellow and green. I seem to have liked that dress.
Being alone and helpless in the scorching heat in the moment of death made my mind scream with despair. I felt abandoned, judged and punished for the simple fact that I was pregnant. I probable was not married. In that very moment I promised myself to never be pregnant again. Then, I died like that in a pile of blood.
It took some time to integrate what I had experienced. In whatever way I looked at the situation, it was a clear message from my subconscious mind. I had rejected my female fire in this lifetime. Healing these scars took a long time. But, after the years of healing I feel at peace about my issues in this regard, and welcome any baby coming my way. The final turning point was my sister’s decision to name her second daughter after me: Ida Margherita. Ida was my great grandmother’s name. All that goes around comes around in the