Writing is Therapeutic--What's on your mind?

     This blogsite offers a place for sharing ideas, asking questions, posting comments, and building a network of people who can be counted on for support. This blog is dedicated to those who 1)  survived a traumatic event 2)   know someone who survived  or 3)  want to be part of a supportive network of comrades. This is not a dating site nor is it a site that offers licensed medical advice. This site is for expression and informational purposes only.

     Please note: If you post a story or comment, it will not be evaluated, except by request. If you'd like a personal response from me, just let me know and leave me an email address. I promise to contact you within 24-48 hours.

     The following is an excerpt from a longer writing. It's neither personal nor political. It's just a writing. Feel free to respond to any comment written by me or someone else or please write on a topic of your own. Just be kind to each other, if you don't mind. Any offensive material knowingly or unknowingly intended to hurt or undermine--we all know what that means--will not become a permanent post.

Thanks

Emme

Dear Diary,

           Watching the Victoria’s Secret extravaganza not very long ago, I was reminded of the marginalization of beautiful women of color all over the world.  Suddenly, I understood why much of what I do, most of what I write has no meaning at all in real time. There’s the story I want to tell, the story the world wants me to tell, and the story I dare not tell about the oppression experienced by women first and foremost, but particularly women of color, and especially attractive women of color.

           Oppression comes in many forms from very subtle psychological innuendo to extreme physical abuse. For every story told, there are two that will not be told, unless someone breaks the secret code of silence, risks being considered or labeled a “trouble-maker,” home wrecker or “whistle blower,” and consents to being ostracized by friends, neighbors, and co-worker. Overnight, she's relegated to second-class citizenry in the land of the free, home of the brave. “Bravery” is what they call it when they’re smiling in your face, but once the cars pull away, you know they’re whispering about how you should have kept your big mouth shut.

           Bravery--such a hearty sounding word, like a bowl of home-made chicken soup with a cup of white wine stirred in traveling all the way down to your belly just to nourish your heart and lungs. But like that hearty bowl of soup, bravery is a quality that lacks appreciation, especially when it comes from a woman scorned. Nobody knows how such bravery works, but from the moment a woman speaks the sordid truth, her life is transformed. Everyone talks about bravery, but no one wants to see it up close and personal. As a result, the silent oppression of women, particularly attractive women of color continues...