Did it begin in utero? When my mother's anger began to eat away at her but she, like a sturdy twinkie, is resilient in her fortitude, even after these past thirty-five years.
Perhaps, it was seeded with my brother's physical torture - of holding my sister's mouth & nasal passages closed while sitting on her chest?
It very well could be a result of my father's emotional unavailability, of how he checked out of our day-to-day either through his business travels or through the beer bottle.
Maybe, it was the civil war that was playing out on the planet when, body after body of, American & Vietnamese men were burned with napalm and riddled with bullet holes?
It could have began when I noticed the North County ecosystem that I cherished spending my time upon was being eaten away by big mechanical rigs in large bites. "Hraumph," says a hungry machine. (Even then, I acted. I created my own survey that asked my neighbors what they thought of the "development" and went door-to-door in my neighborhood on Ridge Road.)
Then, there was all the fear - of being physically punished for my "misdeeds." Hair pulling; mouth washing (with soap scraped against teeth); belt beatings; and, even, threats for loving my black boyfriend. I have hid in bathrooms, among other places.
Perhaps, it was the observation that, "Wow! What I look like and how I look is important to the social caste system that I either get to or don't get to move within." I was twelve years old, and I let a female peer slap me right across the face during lunch because she was more "popular" than me.
With the coming of age and into my body, however, the tables turned - over night, my economic worth rose. Slamming in all the right places, highly sought after and ridiculously aware of it all, I became addicted to my confusion of love as attention - the more I received, the more I wanted. Yet, I knew how to take attention, but I didn't know how to give love.
Contracting, and pulling in, I observed how my freedom and ease, my innocence and joy - my silly dorkiness - became bottled up. Contained. Suppressed. Filtered. Censored. Accommodating. Worried. Nervous.
But I looked damn good. ; )
Then, arriving into a new school & a new city, surrounded by new people, and I found myself not being able to engage & really connect on a heart level. Afraid of what they thought, & how I looked, I couldn't just relax and bee. So, I pulled in some more by writing and drawing in the comfort of my own space. And, I recognized that I had given away so much by not being who I was for so long. Who was I?
Who am I?
Who am I?
Who am I outside of the gaze of the male?
I cut off all of my hair - a rebellious response to what I felt was gender pressure and societal norms, especially for this big-haired beauty. And, I observed more of the movement of the world around me. I noticed how my own insecurities were deeply rooted in how I appeared. I became angry. I became friends with lesbians - shaved headed mamas that I shared Ani DiFranco concerts and sweet companionship with. I continued to emotionally eat and the fat I put on my body became another layer between myself and the others I continued to shield myself from.
My anger grew thick, and without any outlets in which to release its heavy burden, it began to suck my Spirit dry. It grew in magnanimous proportions especially as, everywhere I looked - at billboards and pop culture, in my neighborhood and in my county, the injustices were rife and staggering. The insanity of a world gone mad was overwhelming. I couldn't just bee within it - I had to fight my own illusory battle until I was nearly decimated from the inside out.
My teetering on the brink of emotional, physical and financial well-being, shook me out of my stupor. The obvious finally dawned clear as day, like a brilliant sunrise. I could continue to focus on what doesn't work or I could choose to bee-lieve in what has been inside of me all along. Who I have always been, outside of the swirling chaos and the deep sadness, is LOVE. Pure. Vibrant. Innocent. Joyful. LOVE, Sweet Love.
And, like Ani sings, "I'm not angry anymore."
"Angry Anymore" by Ani D.
growing up it was just me and my mom
against the world
and all my sympathies were with her
when i was a little girl
but now i've seen both my parents
play out the hands they were dealt
and as each year goes by
i know more about how my father must have felt
i just want you to understand
that i know what all the fighting was for
and i just want you to understand
that i'm not angry anymore
i'm not angry anymore
she taught me how to wage a cold war
with quiet charm
but i just want to walk
through my life unarmed
to accept and just get by
like my father learned to do
but without all the acceptance and getting by
that got my father through
night falls like people into love
we generate our own light
to compensate
for the lack of light from above
every time we fight
a cold wind blows our way
but we learn like the trees
how to bend
how to sway and say
i, i think i understand
what all this fighting is for
and baby, i just want you to understand
that i'm not angry anymore
no, i'm not angry anymore
