Strength

There were some mean boys on the bus this afternoon. They stole another boy's laptop and then after he got off the bus they were laughing about another time when they stole one of his shoes. It made me feel glad that I'm no longer in high school but it also made me sad that I didn't feel strong enough to stand up to them and say something.

One of my favourite internet pastimes is a site called Pinterest. Pinterest is great, it's like an electronic pinboard for sharing images and links and right now mine is going berserk with all the American feminist pinners I follow sharing links on what's happening in places like Texas, Ohio and Kansas. It seems like a full-scale assault on women's reproductive rights. Alongside the political pins there are lots of inspirational quotes about standing up and making your voice heard and being strong. These sit uneasily with me because while I know I would like to be strong, I feel at the moment like I'm not and I don't have the power to stand up and make my voice heard. Is there a place in feminism for a weak woman? Is there a place in the world for a weak woman? And if not, how do I go about suddenly becoming strong again?

I feel like I'm trying my best at the moment. I'm medication compliant, attending therapy and support groups, getting enough sleep and looking after myself as best I can. This has taken me to the point where I feel I'm recovering, but still not yet well. I want to be well. I feel it will be my first step towards becoming strong but I can't force this state into being. I wonder if there'll be a day when I realise I've passed from recovering to well or if it's a day that will slip by and only be noticed in hindsight.

Until then I think I'll just be feeling slightly abashed that I don't have more fight in me and I don't know how to be strong right now. I don't mean this to all sound so terribly self-piteous but my honest assessment of myself is that I don't have much strength right now. I think I've used it all up fighting off my demons and now I'm in a slow state of recuperation.

The good news is of course that I'm in recuperation. Little bits of me are flocking back, whether they be social involvements or shards of self-esteem. I'm going to get my haircut on Friday which might not sound like a big deal but for the longest time I couldn't care less about how my hair looked because I couldn't stand the sight of myself and thought vanity was wasted on an empty shell like me.

Perhaps I'll be like some reverse Samson and gather strength from the cutting of my locks, perhaps Friday will be the day I finally realise I'm well. I doubt it, but it's nice to think that that day is coming whether it will be recognised as such or not.