Cowardly Lion

Last night I was driving home in the snow storm. I had gone to visit a friend, a quiet respite, a safety net. But then, I grew anxious, a burden. So in the midst of the blizzard I ventured home. At one point, rounding a curve, the car slid off the road and into a snow bank. After some effort I was able to back out and continue on my way. "If only I could have been driving faster," I thought...

The doctors have said that the severe fluctuations in my hormones has and is causing dramatic shifts in mood.

Yesterday I was overcome with uncontrollable crying, so much so I had to be sent home from work (customers do not like their lunch with a side of tears--but you can taste the despair! Mmm'mmm good!). And in a fit of rage I told an ex lover that I hated him, which led to a infantile argument, in which he still refused to acknowledge any harm or wrong doing and instead call me daft, pitiful, callow, sad, and in the end laughed at me. I called him a heartless asshole... Regardless, I should have left it alone, but I was so desperate, desperate for some sort of recognition of my anguish...

Instead I looked hysterical.

Hysterical. Hysteria. Hystereikos, meaning "of the womb." Hysteria, meaning that madness particular to women... How hysterical we appear in our fits of hysteria...

How funny it is that my gender engenders an inferior suffering. Women do not suffer. We are "hysterical," or "hormonal," or "PMS-ing." We do not suffer, we are enslaved to wandering uteruses.

And by virtue that we possess a uterus, that suffering is somehow not suffering at all. The womb is "just a womb." Inferior.

And how sad that even our feminism has been burdened by the great Phallos, striving for equality through a masculinization and denial of our wombs. Women speak about how we are "more than a womb" or that we are equal, despite our wombs. We can spit out children and work that 9 to 5. And at the sacrifice of our wombs--and the children who bore forth from them--we declare ourselves equal and seek to bury emotion, hide our hysteria. Our feminism has taught us to become like men. And in this we declare equality.

How are we equal, when our very bodies are still subjected to repression? Now, not just men, but women alike view the female reproductive system as something to remain hidden, overcome, harnessed. Women declare equality, by the blood of their wombs. And so castrate themselves for their body and insist this body has absolutely no bearing on their identity.

"Just a womb"

Just the fount of humanity. Just the herald of the future. Just Divinity encompassed in human form--the form of woman. Just holiness, sacred creation. Just the cradle of life...

Woman, and humanity, have been duped. We have been convinced of the lie of the womb, that it is inferior. That it is nothing. An appendage to abhor and resent. And how dare a woman confine herself ton define herself by "just a womb."

No. No. I must reject that interpretation offered by feminists on the backs of misogynists. Woman is defined by her womb. And that womb is not inferior, but something beautiful and Divine. To be called woman is to be called that which houses creation. To be called woman is to be called that sacred body through which new life emerges. To be called woman is to be called the zenith of life, where the darkness and goodness of life bears forth, where woman is the penultimate sacrifice--sacrificed to her hysteria, to her womb, to the future.

No. The womb is that natural symbol which represents the eternal foundations of the world: love & sacrifice...

But in this way the womb is dangerous. The womb is revolutionary and wild. It points to our inevitable individual demise as it bares forth new faces primed for the future. And it scares us... So we deem it inferior. We repress and suppress the womb, and woman by extension. And so for equality demand the woman become like man, lest she fastens the power of her womb. And we tell girls to fear the womb, and all things associated, and those complexity of emotions which reflect the complexity of the world. Repress the womb. For it is dangerous...