What is a well behaved woman’s dilemma? That she wants to be every woman. She wants to please everyone in her circle. To stop water drops from making rings. Polite, smooth, and clear as glass.
The Polite Woman becomes invisible. Changing shape so many times, she has no backbone. That was me. Always saying after you. Waiting at the Someday Bus Stop. For a ride out to the big scare me island, that was never coming.
Constant shape shifter, moving backwards in a dance of love and guilt.
Polite women hide their feelings. They keep the gloves on. Engage with the enemy so much they become spies for the establishment. The give up the me, to be a team player. Fixing, carrying and rooting for the group. Saying yes to everyone else, forgetting the voice of self.
They keep the world in check, minding their manners, and everyone else’s.
Slipping beneath the surface of overwhelm. Choking in the weeds of silence. Swallowing all that dirty river water on a raft going to Polite Woman’s Hell.
Are you being too polite to stand up for what you believe in? To polite to let go of what damages you, in your fear of saying No! to someone else? Worried about disappointing those who rely on you?
Afraid that you are not enough?
I am a Polite Woman who has created the guide to Radical Rediscovery,
and wrote “Le Chic Cocoon” because after years of swallowing and stuffing down fear and my own needs, I got booted to the curb. With nothing left to show. Nothing to be, nothing to hold. Stripped naked. Standing in the light. Someday had arrived and I had not a single thing to ask for. I had no idea what I wanted, who I was, or who would see me lurking in the shadows of my life. My biggest fears were realized.
And I remember the poetic words of Dylan Thomas “Rage, rage against the dying of the light” Every life brings sustenance to the soil, nutrients of being. Hold hope in your arms, the bliss of being alive and making choices about where to stand, and how to stop the bus, as she rounds the bend, is powerful. This is your life, step up and grab the strap, dance as she sways and snakes up the road. Look back if you must, your baggage is being covered in dust, forgotten at the curb.
Burn your fire.
What do you think? Are you too polite for your own good? Or do you feel just right?. Are you holding on to hope for other’s? Manipulating dreams because you fear standing alone? Do you know the sound of your yes?