Every February for the past three years, I have participated in The Vagina Monologues as a fundraiser for a local women's charity. This year, I am participating in two productions, one of which I am also producing and directing. As part of the V-Day Global Activist Movement, the show is designed to generate broader awareness for the fight to stop violence against women and girls. While this is a very worthy cause, it is only one of the reasons I am drawn to doing the show, year after year. Instead, the appeal for me is for the sense of community that typically surrounds the production.
I have always loved being surrounded by people working toward the same goal. Although a bond is certainly generated between members of most acting companies, for some reason, with this show, there is something more: a place of support, respect, understanding and acceptance. There is an outward celebration of the feminine and a definite "you can do it" vibe. We are the "Vagina Warriors".
Interestingly, it is while in this environment of strong, capable women, I realize something about myself: I have no tolerance for "Victims".
Oh, I am not talking about those who have survived after being victimized by rape, bullying, violence, molestation or the other awful things that can happen to a person. I am speaking instead about those who wallow in their self misery, blaming others (or the event) for every less-than-pleasing occurrence in their lives...about those who whine or complain about their situations and who choose to do nothing about them (or their perception of them)...about those who look for the negative in every situation and then are surprised when their prophesies become reality...about those who abuse their friendships as they obsess over every detail of their miseries.
That's not to say I haven't done all of these myself. Of course I have. Every once in a while a pity party does wonders. Sometimes the wallowing lasts a longer time than others (although I like to think it can and should be directly proportionate to the pain generated from the event). I have had a few friends who couldn't handle being around me until I sorted through some of the awfulness--which may or may not be contrary to what I actually wanted and/or needed from them. I have felt so lost at times that I didn't know how to claw my way back. I have spent days alone, sobbing in the shower, the car, the kitchen, the bedroom, all while in a self-enforced hermitic seclusion. Yes, I have experienced crippling depression, lethargy, malaise or rage. It happens. I have allowed it to happen.
But then I do my damnedest to get the hell over it for the very simple reason that I am not comfortable in my misery. Misery causes me to feel ill, to experience aches and pains, to feel like a duller, less vibrant version of myself. I don't like myself that way. I don't like holding on to anger. I don't like not taking responsibility for my own happiness. I don't want to return again and again to the same types of people, situations or circumstances and not learn from them.
In truth, I am too damned stubborn about seeking a better life to be complacent. I get edgy and "think-y" and sometimes even "rant-y" when I don't like my situation. I do rely on my friends and family to be sounding boards and to help me sort through personal and emotional wreckage, but ultimately this is my journey. I could feel sorry for myself or I could focus my energy for change. While I am often impatient when changes don't happen "quickly enough", I am really trying to hold on to the idea of "everything in its time". I am Learning.
Look at me getting all growed up and sh*t. Ha.
Until my next entry, Lovelies....
***
For more information about my productions of The Vagina Monologues, please visit our website.
No comments:
Post a Comment