I have been in the workplace for over forty years, I have been sexually harassed and discriminated against more times than I care to remember. Who hasn’t right? The only thing new here is that my perpetrators were other females. I know right. We don't typically hear this. In the workplace, it's usually accusations from a female against a male counterpart. I am here now to say that sexual harassment and discrimination in the workplace is a two-way street, equal oppportunity offence. Over the years I have felt harassed and discriminated against many times, and yes I was harassed because I was female. My harassment came from the hands of other women. I have been victim to bullying, conspiring, gossiping, isolation, control, betrayal, withheld opportunities, right down to termination.
We all have that one friend, that one friend who just does not stop talking. It seems they cannot stand the sound of silence. You're in the middle of a story, you stop for just a moment, and suddenly, whatever you were talking about sparked a thought in their head, and they just had this compulsive need to say it right there and then in the middle of your story. Almost as if they don't say it now, it will forever disappear from their mind. Conversations with this sort of friend are very scattered, with little continuity or depth. It's like they suffer from some form of undiagnosed ADHD. Small talk is the best type of conversation with such people.
I recently had a friend visit, and when he left, I noticed two Hollywood magazines he'd left behind. For fun, I started flipping through them. There were actually times I laughed out loud. The best part is that after 10 years of not watching television, I only knew about 10% of the celebrities. Celebrities and their lives for all to see are simply ongoing parables or often a paradox for our viewing pleasure.
Sally had always felt like a walking contradiction. Sometimes she did things she didn’t believe in just to get along. And other times she secretly did things that would not be favourably accepted my mainstream society. For these reasons, she felt conflicted, with a twist of shame. Shame, because she only displayed the material world wanted to see, as opposed to how she truly felt inside. This was probably why she spent so much of her time alone. She knew she could no longer play both sides, she couldn’t live in both worlds. It required too much energy. And to pretend to enjoy participating in the habitual and robotic daily circumstances of the world created a feeling of what she could only describe as cheating on your spouse. She was not in alignment. None of it felt right, never really did. What she was feeling on the inside was not what was showing up on the outside. She was not in alignment and it was starting to physically manifest and not in a positive way. At the time she wasn’t exactly aware of its purpose, she just felt that she was different from everyone else. This created inner anxiety, a knot in her stomach. She did not know that all of this inner-fuckery would turn out to be the greatest gift ever—freedom!
Parents want their grown addicted children to live at home. Why? So they can cure them? Because they feel responsible? It’s their parental obligation? They feel it is in their power and control to heal them? If they are diligent, they can keep their child out of harms way? Constantly asking themselves or God, “Where did I/we go wrong”? And finally, that really big ‘What if’ question’. What if I put them out on the street, and while they are out there, they die? What if they die from an overdose, or suicide, or at the hands of someone else? These are really BIG questions. Now let’s expose some of these fear thoughts.
The other day I read some words in a post that truly resonated: “I’m not afraid of the truth. I’m not afraid of being honest and raw and downright brutal with how I choose to hammer words out of my mouth without any coat of sugary bullshit."