Grieving For God's Daughters
I am over at Bedlam Magazine today talking about my grief for the suffering endured by women around the world. I've included an excerpt below, but I'd love for your to head on over to Bedlam to read the entire article. Trigger warning: This article contains of a discussion of issues (sexual abuse, rape, molestation) that may not be suitable for all readers.
I hear their cries.
A few days ago, I dreamt that we marched in formation together, shoulder-to-shoulder and side-by-side. We numbered in the millions—eyes narrowed, shoulders erect—a battalion of women each holding a shield, pressing forward together.
I was on the front line, protected in part by the women to my left and to my right. I didn’t know what we were moving towards, and I didn’t have time to find out. The first scream pierced the air suddenly, surprisingly—its shrill volume echoing over the battlefield. Flanked by an unseen enemy, our ranks began to disappear one by one—the screams rising—then were progressively swept away in waves.
The rest of us attempted to march on, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman next to me fall to the ground. Her eyes were wide in terror as she crumbled to the dirt, and I felt her fingers claw at the skin on my wrist before I awoke in the darkness of my bedroom, chest heaving.
Today, I grieve for my sisters. My heart is broken for my tribe.