The Sexist In Me Is The Sexist In You

For years I have owned the “other’s” image of myself that I have created. I’m recognizing more fully how much I actually judge myself. In this conversation with sex and my desire to fully acknowledge my trauma that revolves around it to fully embody a true nurturing human that has tended to her wounds, I must look at myself and what I have created. I see the reflection of an image that is my worst nightmare. Someone who has become what I have feared most. Someone that does not embody love, but fear. Someone who’s behavior is driven by the emotions that repress and limit. I see in myself a sexist woman. Someone who feels they must exert power over another due to a deep rooted fear of abandonment and lack of control of feelings of being hurt by men.

Today, I acknowledge this behavior and these thoughts and commit to questioning my future musings and actions that follow. I will judge myself with more love than I knew possible to nurture my growth and welcome home this personality of protection that I have enlisted for my defense as I traversed the dangerous lands of being a dancer in this modern world where sexism is rampantly encouraged. Normal. Justified. Romanticized. I choose to witness this as it has developed over the years that stems from my early childhood no doubt.I choose to look at it and be grateful I have come to learn of its existence.

Thank you, Life.

You have provided me with endless opportunities to reflect, contemplate, and choose my own path. I am forever grateful for this moment of clarity.

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