I feel badly about the post I recently deleted, not because the subject is not important to me, but because it feels unfair to the person I wrote about, for whom I care very much, and who has gone more than the extra mile to be kind to me. And still, my psychic wounds are very deep and raw right now.
So let's get to the heart of it, for me.
There was a situation between my friend and me which was painful beyond measure and which struck me to the very core of my feelings as a woman, a rape survivor, and simply someone who has had to live in a sexist culture my entire life. Yes, I know men suffer, too: but there was definitely no suffering on the part of the men, including my friend, involved in a particular scene that night. Their conversation indicated that it was perfectly fine, in their view, to buy and sell women for their own use, without any regard for the humanity and circumstances of these women. How this differs in their minds from trafficking, I don't know. Hearing it cut to the very heart of myself as a person; I felt demeaned. My friend apologized later, but I question now: what is his view, really, of women? Does he really respect women? Is it just lip service to sound good to women? Why must we all make such excuses for unacceptable behavior, as I have tried to do over and over? I feel like a raw wound when I contemplate these things, and have been sick at heart about it all. As much as I miss my dear friend right now, I am also afraid, and I do not like to feel that way.
He said he was sorry, over and over. I have to give him the benefit of the doubt, that it was real. But it's still a wound, for me.
But something happened just after he went on his trip, a simple thing that healed my heart and made me feel as if I was respected, and even beautiful again. Thistle's school holds a barn dance every Fall, and hires a terrific square dancing caller and a professional band of fiddlers, etc. The caller is a great guy, extremely kind, and incredibly patient at directing a bunch of kids and parents who don't know how to square dance. I was a bit sad that night because I was supervising kids and didn't have much time to dance. Square dancing is actually quite fun, I've discovered, over the years.
At then end of the square dancing, it seems that a waltz is customary, at least with this set of musicians, etc . The caller (who I have to say is tall and handsome, and gracious) came up to me, bowed like a goddamned gentleman, and said, "May I have this dance?" And I said yes. He wasn't the strongest lead, and I told him I hadn't waltzed in years, but he led me around the floor, and we talked and laughed, and even flirted a bit, very innocently. I had no trouble looking him in his (incredibly beautiful, crystal-blue) eyes, laughing, and feeling safe, all a rarity with me. He said not to be scared, that I waltzed very well. At the end, he bowed again, thanked me for the dance, and went off to pack up and get going.
Having been in the presence of a real gentleman who treated me respectfully, I ended up feeling so much better about myself. Certainly I should feel great about myself all the time, but when in the presence of crass, ugly talk that is offensive, it's easy to feel like you're covered with someone else's psychic slime.
The few moments I had, waltzing with a man who knew to treat me as a person of worth, a person to be respected, never overstepping boundaries, healed my very sad heart to a great degree.
