Open Letter: Dear Femme

[Gemme]

Originally Posted by Medusa

You made me cry. Right here at my desk. In front of everyone. And I dont care who thinks its messy.

Or maybe the situation made me cry. Lemme see what I can muster. (I always want to write "mustard" here because it's funnier but the Virgo in me cringes when I fuck up euphamisms)

Today I am sitting here at my desk at work where I really should be working but I am instead swirling in some heavy emotions and doing a lot of internal processing. I am listening to Angie Aparao on my ipod and he's doing a great cover of "Champagne Supernova" and maybe the pitch of his voice was just right or maybe it's the melody or the words but as I was reading your post, Adele, he sang the line "Where were you while we were getting high?" and he took the last note way, WAY out. The kind of sound where your heart is stretched thin like a piece of pink bubblegum and it feels the emotion of want and need and sound congealed behind notes and pulse.
So I cried. Because I am overwhelmed. Because I am sad. Because I am resolute. Because I am afraid. Because I am no longer afraid.

I have spent most of last night and today writing my resignation letter from a group that I have belonged to for 4 years. A group that has done important work that is specific to my way of being that I have always felt incredibly strongly about supporting. I came to a place at some point in the last several months where I realized that I had to step away. I came to a place over the last couple of weeks where I knew that stepping away would be scary. Over the last couple of days, I realized it would be painful. Over the last several hours I have felt a range of emotions from anger to resolve to sadness to something that feels like mourning.

I have been all at once afraid of the reactions of my fellow committee members and resolute to not care. I have struggled with being authentic and direct without being unecessarily hurtful. I have thought hard about my involvement with the organization and what it will mean to the friendships that exist inside of and outside of that space when I leave. My leaving centers around some ugly stuff. Mostly stuff that is outside of my control. Mostly stuff that is hurtful to the scope of the organization.
I am weary y'all. Weary to the core of my being.
I have for so long operated by trying to be authentic and honest but also on some level ,with a fear of confronting. Its hard. The "good girl" in me who says to "sit down, keep silent, smooth your dress, dont make waves, dont tell what you know" is very much at odds with the spiritual being in me that says "speak your truth, speak it clearly, demand transparency, demand honesty, stand up for truth".
This conflict has created a weird dichotomy in me in the last 2 days. One where I want to just vomit up a bunch of stuff in my resignation letter to show that I am leaving because things got too fucked up for me to be part of. Part of me wants to "go quietly into that good night". Part of me feels that either of these options would not be good. Part of me knows that there will be huge backlash for calling uncomfortable things out and shining a light on ugly truths.

I guess I came to this thread because I have often felt such peace in the arms of other Femmes. Such understanding. Such graceful beauty and love. And I need those things today to help the girl in me who is scared to speak to find her voice. And I needed to remember that I am not a horrible person for seeking the truth. Thank you, Adele.

I will be creating a new journey for myself by leaving this organization and speaking out. There will be broken friendships and pain and I dont want to be silent out of fear anymore. I am asking for some love here. Its often been hard for me to ask for help when I need it. So, this is me, asking you, my Femme sisters, to send me some courage.

This might be out of place here. I apologize for taking up space if it is.

Much love.

Would a full length semi trailer (53 feet) be enough courage and support? Cuz I have one of those sitting outside in the neighboring store's parking lot and I happen to know (sorta) how to get around in one of those suckers. It's only "borrowing" if I bring it back, right?

Though I haven't had the privilege of sharing breathing space with you, over the years I've formed an impression of you that seems to constantly be validated and reaffirmed by those who have met you and who do know you in the flesh and blood. You ARE authentic. You ARE strong. You ARE a good girl, except when you're not.

Your role in the existence of this very place provides visible evidence of your strength, fortitude, honor, courage and the vast expanse of your very soul, which reaches out to each and every one of us on a daily basis.

Kids say the darndest things and my gran credited me with saying something that I have no memory of saying but I remember her and gramps making references to it from time to time. She told me we were sitting on her back porch and she and my grandfather were upset about something and he was being gruff and started to well up. He turned to go inside before "us girls" could see him cry, muttering something about not being weak. I grabbed his hand and tugged at it until he hunkered down to my level. She said I placed my hands on his cheeks, looked him right in the eye and told him that a dam that allows some water to pass through without crumbling has to be stronger than one that cannot. It just HAD to be.

Okay, so it's a little kooky, but I think it's important to allow things, feelings, people to flow through and out of us. Every experience we have makes us stronger, better versions of ourselves. So this too, shall pass, and in the end, you will be stronger and better for it.

Much luck and love to you, Medusa.