Through the Gateway of the Sacred Feminine

She joins her country’s military. She wants to serve. She wants to grow strong. She wants to see the world. She wants to grow wise. She wants to protect the people she cares about and the way of life she believes in. She is trained alongside women and men. She comes to know them, rely on them. In a dark corner of a quiet room, she is cornered. There are several of them. They tear into her like animals. She knows them. These are men she trained alongside. She doesn’t know them anymore. The look in their eyes. Their jeers, laughter, encouragement shouted to each other as they hold and violate her. She doesn’t know anything for sure, anymore. All she knows is this suffering that bites down deeper than her bones. Shatters her to the core of her being.
   
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She is a prostitute by profession. It was the only profession taught to her. She is told, the only profession that suits her. In the village where she was raised, rape is commonplace. So commonplace, it isn’t called rape. It is called a man’s privilege. The men in her family are the first to introduce her to a man’s privilege. She learns this lesson early, and often. She is told that she is stupid, weak, an object of sexual desire and satisfaction. This is how she comes to see herself. She engages in her profession. It is all she knows.  
   
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She is part of a large family, they have a beautiful home in the countryside. They have farms, orchards, families that are in the employ of her own. They become like extended family. She runs and laughs with her sister in the orchards. One night, soldiers from another country come. They burn her family home. Her beloved sister is shot dead, trying to protect her. Her sister dies before her eyes as the soldiers tear into her like animals. There are several of them. She does not know them, but moments ago, they seemed like men. Some not much older than herself. Just boys. They laugh and shout encouragement to each other as they violate her. She doesn’t know them. She doesn’t know anything for sure, anymore. All she knows is this anguish of loss. Loss of her sister. Loss of herself. Her family disowns her. She is now unclean. She lives on the streets. She gets a job cleaning hotel rooms. She fights off the advances of men, daily. She comes to hate them.  
   
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She is out walking by herself. She is traveling by herself. She was warned against this. She is young and fearless. She disregards these warnings. She is offered a ride by a kind stranger with a kind smile. She accepts. She is driven to a secluded place where he violates her. He beats her, tears into her like an animal. He stabs her, strangles her, and mutilates her body. He throws her down an embankment like discarded trash. She bleeds, she aches to the core of her being. She is in shock, ashamed. She lies there, feeling the life ebb from her body. She thinks of her friends. She thinks of her family.  
   
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She loves her boyfriend. He tells her she is beautiful. He tells her she is smart. He tells her that she is the love of his life. He introduces her to intravenous drug use. It soothes her pain. It helps her forget the home she escaped. He protects her. She trusts him. He tells her they need money for the drugs that give them relief from suffering. He tells her, it’s just sex. He tells her what they have is love. She has sex with strangers for money. She gets used to it. They use her like a party favor. They call her bitch, slut, whore. They hammer their lust into her alongside their words. Both feel like hate. She comes to hate them. When she doesn’t make enough money for their drugs, her boyfriend flies out of control. He beats her. He forces sex onto her, even when she is exhausted and feeling soiled to the core of her being. She forgives him. He doesn’t mean it. He also feels the sickness without the drugs. He is the only person in the world who understands her. She is the only person in the world who understands him. She loves her boyfriend. She trusts him. She gets used.  
   
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She goes to college. She wants to learn. She wants her intelligence and potential to flower. She wants to conquer the world. She wants to become a woman. She wants to support the people she cares about and influence the way of life she was raised in. She is educated alongside women and men. She comes to know them, rely on them. In a bright room full of laughter, she is corralled. There are several of them. They pass her around like a party favor. She thought she knew them. She doesn’t know them anymore. They laugh. They call her slut, whore, bitch, like these words apply to her. It is one of several nightmares they force into her as they hold and violate her. She doesn’t know anything for sure, anymore. All she knows is this suffering that pollutes her far deeper than the poison they polluted her with, to confuse her senses and lower her defenses. She is poisoned, polluted, to the core of her being.  
   
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Do you know someone like this? I have known all of these women. Soon, I will tell you more about them. I am almost certain that you do know someone like this, or have, even if you haven’t known their stories, they have lived them.    
   
What is strength?  
   
Is a man strong? He is built with a superior physique in sense of dense, broad muscle. A large frame to hold it. His metabolism allows him to burn through fat easier. He is lean, densely muscled. His hands are big and powerful. His body is powerful. He can defend or do harm.  
   
Is a woman strong?  She is built with an inferior physique in sense of muscle density. She has a lithe frame. Her metabolism causes her to hold fat, so that it may nourish her young. She is broad at the hips. Her hands are small, fingers slender.  
   
She can defend or do harm. She has a mind that is the equal of any man. She has a mind that can surpass any man. She has a pain threshold that far exceeds any man. She has developed her mind, her cunning, as she lacks the brute strength and mass of the male gender.  
   
She holds the womb of life. There is no life, other than that which grows within her. She nurtures it. She nourishes it. Long before she can see her child, hold her child, she loves it. She feels it growing, she feels it moving within her. She endures long months of nausea, swelling ankles, cramps, aches, pains, cravings, mood swings and the fear associated with this enormous change. She experiences the agony and glory of birth. She creates a new human being. A new man. A new woman.  
   
She is the lioness. She is a hunter. She holds a quiet ferocity. When she roars, the eaves quiver. The waters, ripple. All things fall silent.  
   
She is the queen bee. She is calling the shots. She holds the reins of command. Where she gestures, all follow. All serve her in harmony.  
   
In the animal kingdom, in various phyla of fish, reptiles, worms, the female of the species is larger. She is sexually liberated, using her powerful call, colorful plumage and scales, pheromone scents, to attract many lovers. The male is reliant upon her in many ways. Attaches to her. Draws from her strength. In some cases, the act of love making causes the male to die. The female feasts upon his flesh to strengthen herself and to nourish the offspring of their union. The cycle is endless. The cycle that flows through the gateway of the sacred feminine.  
   
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She joined her country’s military. She was trained alongside women and men. She came to know them, rely on them. In a dark corner of a quiet room, she was cornered, violated. She was encouraged to stay silent about it, but she fought. She fought for herself. She fought for those who did not fight. She fought to protect those who would suffer as she suffered. She serves her country. She grows strong. She grows wise. She sees the world. She protects the people she cares about and the way of life she believes in, in more ways than she had anticipated. She holds this pain and grows through it. She is a soldier. She is a mother. She is a friend.  
   
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She was a prostitute by profession. It was the only profession taught to her. She was told, the only profession that suits her. She was told that she was stupid, weak, an object of sexual desire and satisfaction. This is how she came to see herself. She educates herself. She finds others who had lifted themselves from the cycles of abuse. She becomes one of them. In time, she educates others. In time, she helps others to lift themselves from the cycles of abuse. She discovers that she is intelligent, strong and has the right to pursue her own life, her own happiness, without being violated or violating others. This is how she comes to realize herself. She engages in her new profession. She teaches the people of her country that a man’s only privilege is the same as a woman’s. To love. To live.  
   
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She is part of a large family, they had a beautiful home in the countryside. They have farms, orchards, families that are in the employ of her own. They became like extended family. In time, she saves her money from her job cleaning hotel rooms. She educates herself, goes to university, and earns 4 master’s degrees. She becomes a physician who works with children. She moves from her home country across the world to a western democracy. She reunites with her siblings. She helps them with their education. She pursues her own happiness. She aids in the pursuit of happiness for those she loves.  
   
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She was out walking by herself. She was traveling by herself. She was warned against this, but was reckless. She drags herself to her feet. She summons the will to live. She slowly climbs the embankment and flags down a car. Two men take her to a hospital, where she slowly recovers. She recovers her courage. She becomes wise. She educates others about traveling safely, about learning self-defense. She falls in love. She gets married and raises a family. She pursues life, love and happiness.  
   
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She loved her boyfriend. He told her she was beautiful. He told her she was smart. He told her that she was the love of his life. He introduced her to intravenous drug use. When she didn’t make enough money for their drugs, he beat her, forced sex onto her. She leaves him behind. She gets into rehab. She gets into counseling. She leaves drugs and prostitution behind. She becomes a drug abuse counselor that focuses on sex trafficked women. She helps to lift women from cycles of abuse. She finds a woman that she loves. They are married and enjoy life, enjoy love and find happiness in each other.  
   
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She went to college. She was educated alongside women and men. She came to know them, rely on them. In a bright room full of laughter, she was corralled. She finishes her education. Through advocacy, she brings the rape culture that exists in colleges to light. She travels, she lectures, she educates others. She wanted to learn and she has, graduating summa cum laude. She wanted her intelligence and potential to flower and it has. She wanted to conquer the world and she did something better, she contributed something of real value to it. She became a better, stronger woman that she had ever imagined. She marries, has children, supports the people she cares about and influences the way of life she was raised in.  
   
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Do you know someone like these women? I am almost certain that you do know someone like this, or have, even if you haven’t known them, you know their stories and the stories of people like them.    
   
Now, again, I ask you, what is strength? Strength is rising above what you have experienced. Reconciling your pain and what has befallen you. Turning your experiences into something that is of benefit to yourself and others. It is neither male nor female, but a choice of the spirit.  
   
I ask you to love yourself. Do not allow others to tell you who you are.    
   
I ask you to release your sense of privilege. Live. Love. Pursue happiness. Do no harm.  
   
Treat others as you would be treated. Treat others as you would treat God.  
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Through the Gateway of the Sacred Feminine  
By  
Daniel Christensen