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Is Multilevel Marketing the Newskin of Pyramid Schemes?

Appeal to your want for financial stability, make you shell out for a high initial and continuous investment, shame you into covering the gaps with more personal purchases, guilt you into staying on in an attempt to recoup your losses and then blame you so you won't share your stories, all the while thinking you are a failure.
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Becoming A Nasty Woman

I hesitate to call myself nasty. I believe in love and light, nasty is so far away from me. I thought by doing no harm, it was enough. If I could do good, even better. When I understood my own story and the abuse stories of other women. The question I ask is what happens when nasty isn't you and nasty comes for you? 

Are we made to be the punching bags of the world? Designed to be put down, shut up, stood up in a corner. Propped up by strings of everyone else, compliant only to be controlled? The truth is nasty, people can be nasty, the world has gone nasty. People are nasty simply because they are allowed to. For the first time I let myself be angry. What I want is justice. For far too long, we have lost our voices to "being nice" when it is just another way to say I win, you lose. We have become so nice that it means crouching in a corner to avoid your abuser AND get blamed for it. From the brush in the subway to those who blame women for dressing the way she chooses to the rapist husbands and thoughts of women as walking sex objects, grab her pussy, make her yours. It makes me sick. If nasty is justice. Then I am nasty. Oh, I'm so damn nasty. 

Be the bubbly shiny girl with no opinions, gaining respect by being under, drowning, respected by association to the next man you meet when we are powerful beyond belief, being you is your superpower. When you see how your self-worth undergoing destruction by the many who put it down to "locker room banter". That these incidences have already shaped the world. Oh, I'm nasty. 

It's not that I didn't have it within me, oh yes, I did. The many times I made excuses for others, thinking they are hurting, when did they do the same for me? The many stories of women who don't recognise their worth as innate, their hearts aren't meant to be share with the people who use them and that respect is the only way forward. When did we get so lost and for so long if there truly isn't patriarchy or misogyny? 

So for myself and the many other others who have suffered at the hand of abuse, I am nasty. Let my rage be yours, use it for yourself, you deserve better. Hell no, not now, not ever. 

For the many who suffer blame, shame and guilt for simply being you, I am nasty. So damn nasty. Nasty enough to tell a woman, NO abuse is OK. That verbal and emotional abuse IS abuse and it is still not OK. Nasty not in the way many already are, nasty in claiming my own, my own innate worth, my own right to be myself and the right of every woman to be herself. 

I'm as nasty as they come, nasty is part of becoming, the real woman I really am. One who is justifiably angry at a world that puts women in a corner. I'm nasty, a brilliantly nasty insightful thinker. I'm nasty, a nasty writer who tells you the truth that monetarily hurt and ultimately heal. Oh I'm nasty, a nasty woman who will say no and make sure you believe it.

So nasty, so good. 

This is inspired by Nasty Woman by Nina Donovan, you can find her video here. Also performed by Ashley Judd during Women's March 2017. 

Posters taken from here. 

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Calling Mic Drop

Calling Mic Drop

Finding your calling has become more complex than ever before. Especially when opportunities abound, the paradox of choice kicks in rapidly, creating more confusion than clarity. 

I have come to understand that before you find your calling, you have to find your authentic self first. Or even if you feel called, you can't support it if you aren't living whole, capable of standing alone and getting your needs met independently. You would have to stand in the truth, embrace your greatest strengths and make peace with your deepest challenges. Most importantly, never stop searching. 

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Sitting With The Truth

I had a belated birthday gathering with my girlfriends and we all brought our public faces. That "representative" mask as Glennon Doyle Melton calls it. I had just finished reading her book Love Warrior and was itching to talk about it. 

Unsure where to start because as long as we have known each other, we are still uncomfortable with the pain, I could tell. Pain is awkward, it triggers the pain of others. We are suppose to be happy all the time, remember? Glennon talks about the Comparer, Shover, Fixer, Reporter, Victim and God Reps in her book, who made her feel worse instead of better. We haven't learned quite yet how to sit with our own pain, how can we do so for others? 

The pain that makes you feel worthless. The pain of isolation. The pain of losing someone you love. The pain of careless words. The pain of betrayal. The pain that makes you feel so small, you disappear inside and put on a mask to deal with the crazy world outside. 

Sometimes, it feels too heavy for myself and it could certainly feel too heavy for someone else. So I shove it aside like everyone else and no one was the wiser. But I knew. I couldn't run away from the internal dialogue of self-doubt and worthlessness that rears its ugly head constantly. After much education and counselling, I learned how to sit in my pain and address it comfortably. I now think of my pain as shells waiting to be broken open to expose my deepest desires.

Keeping my recent promise to myself that I will not sacrifice my inner voice for the sake of harmony. In between the polite how are yous and what have you been doing lately, I blurted it all out in a hurry. Not the smoothest delivery I assure you. "I recently read this book, Love Warrior, and the author writes about when you strip away your role to someone else, say a partner and a mother, what do you have that is solely your own? She also talks about how her husband didn't really listen to her, causing her to be disconnected from him." 

The silence was thick with questions that hung in the air, I have broken the cardinal rule. We were suppose to talk about mundane pleasantries aren't we? One girl quickly shoved it aside, showing annoyance on her face. Oops, I might have just ruined her idea of a pleasant evening. I could feel the other filled with thoughts that have no answers so she kept quiet. Like an exam she didn't study for and might just have the wrong answers. 

The third girl said to me, I don't know, I haven't thought about what can I call solely my own. But my husband isn't good at listening. Sometimes I feel, is it just me? 

This got me excited, this was the truth, I hear it. 

The annoyed girl tried to quickly shove it under the carpet where all the difficult truths belong. She said it's just different seasons in a definitive manner and continued to ask the quiet girl about her children. I nodded in agreement, eager for more information but knowing it was my cue to let it be for the time being. Quiet girl heaved with relief, she knew how to talk about her kids, it was a safe zone for her. She put on her mask again and rattled on. 

I listened patiently for a while but I wasn't going to let up just yet. I said, "the book also talks about how parenting is exhausting and sometimes you just want to sit back and watch some TV, is connectivity even realistic? She was so disconnected, it started affecting things in the bedroom." This was my own truth, even though I wasn't a parent, I sure have dated emotionally unavailable people and the sex was the first to go. There was no way I was going to be open to it if I do not have a deep connection first. The quiet girl nodded in agreement. We were getting somewhere, little steps to know each other truly.

Ask yourself today, what do you have that is solely your own?

 

 

The kids will fly the coop someday and touch wood, your relationship might not work out. Men often don't feel guilty about wanting to meet up with friends, have their own hobbies or pursue a career, it is often the women who sacrifice these things. I believe if we find a little more balance in our lives, we wouldn't be so devastated when our roles change. 

Comment below if this speaks to you. Your life stories like mine are valuable to the other women here.

I can't wait. 

To love, light and peace, 
Min

Womanhood: Navigating the Toxic Waters is by Jenny Lee. You can find her here. 

You can find tattoo art here. 

Read about my review of Love Warrior here.  

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