I Am Tired of Men's Wars
Prose: Gendered Violence, Personal, Systemic & Back Again, Feel It
I am tired of Men’s wars.
It begins inside their own derelict souls, ruining beautiful things. Their internal wars are raged against us, with the expectation we, as Women, will not push back or defend against their false accusations, all because they won’t look in the mirror.
They’ve corrupted healing and holy language and fashioned their wounds as weapons.
Asking for simple human kindness, recognition and acknowledgement is a crime to them.
Oh, I know there are men who are hurting. Those with awareness, this isn’t for you , or maybe it is.
Can you contend with the hurt you’ve inflicted? Or are you more worried about your performance? Or how you are seen by others? It is time for (r)Evolution, men must confront the violence of other men.
And no,
No, no, I will not accept excuses and lies.
No, I will not accept the propaganda that your inability to show up to the negotiating table, to fully communicate is my fault —or hers or theirs.
It’s not.
I will not accept your dishonesty or projections, they are not mine, —or hers or theirs.
Step up and step in.
You have this ONE life, stop destroying beautiful things and beautiful people.
Become beautiful in the mire of healing, in the face of disruption, in the wonder of falling apart,
Transform.
I am tired of Men’s wars.
I hear it, from women every single day. We are holding up the world while the world desecrates us.
Telling a sexually liberated woman she’s “too much” and “too intense” because she experiences meaningful connection and desire, only reveals men’s prison.
The prison of your body needs to be addressed, not the confidence of hers, or mine, or ours.
Flagellating her assertiveness to speak up for her needs, and say who she is, asking for basic human decency on a difficult day or a template of simple romances and foreplay, so she can sink into her body, only reveals ego and an intent to dominate her rather than participate with her.
Emotional safety matters and Men, you are not safe.
You attacked when we chose the bears. The softer of you found underhanded ways to lather us up while accusing us of your indiscretions.
Your violence is in the soft tones and drones of complaints and blames that our greatness “pushes you away” or forces your rage.
“See what you made me do.” You say.
All because you won’t do the emotional work and breathe into vulnerability with us. We cannot do the work for you— it’s not enough for us to want it for you.
You have to want your own sexual liberation. You have to want your own freedom & healing.
Healing happens, yes in connection, conflict resolution and communication but you must take self-responsibility and choose it, to see it, to enact the change “I’m different” tropes you so daringly speak.
We are tired of deceit from the covert ones refusing accountability of impact.
So, as a result, you will see us grow more Fierce and Angry and we will continue to push back against the ways you inflict suffering.
It’s personal. It’s systemic. The clear patriarchal script of gaslights, my sisters and I are feeling it, I am feeling it.
And I grieve.
Once sealed with a kiss and then pulled apart and left unfinished, unexplored, with pangs to the heart because we, as women, so badly want a world of harmony, weaved in beauty and kindness and compassion.
I am
Tired.
Even as I write, even as I remember moments of wonder with you, even as I feel through the rough transformations, there is a rooted angst and exhaustion beyond the lights that once created hope —now, it only turns to ashes.
I am tired of Men’s wars.
I am the ashes, and I will, my sisters and I will cover your sky in darkness for what you have done.
Your wars can no longer be part of us and we will not be party to them. The time for our fight mode has come and we rise with it again and again.
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