She travels to the depths, to the parts unseen and unheard.
Parts I’d rather keep locked away,
but parts that need to breathe nonetheless.

She whispers: even the smallest trespass counts
Coaxing the memories out as they flood to my consciousness.
It counts because it happened, even if I don’t remember how.

In a world of “not enough,”
My pain and my trauma is valid,
No matter how big or how small.

Every unwanted lingering stare,
Every hug that pulled me in too close,
Every brush up against my body.

Every grope,
Every grab,
Every encroachment on my being.

Every insult,
Every insinuation,
Every joke that crossed the line.

All the humiliation,
All the harassment,
And all the assaults on my body.

I give it all back now, back to where it came from.
I refuse to carry the weight of your sins,
For this is no longer my burden bear.

I breathe oxygen to the stifled memories,
And provide space for them to exist.
I move through my pain and transmute all of their transgressions.

Venus in Scorpio is my Shamanic healer.
Singing over my bones she digs up what I’ve pushed down. 
She rattles me to my core as I reclaim what is mine.

And with that, she helps me swim back to the surface a changed Woman.
One who is no longer afraid to speak truth to her story.
And one who can find beauty in her pain.

(Image from Pinterest: we are trying to find the copyright/artist. Please help if you are familiar.)