Slight Trigger Warning: It’s not bad at all, really, just thought I’d give the warning due to the discussion of sexual trauma. This is the July post, the one I’ve been putting off all month, the only one I didn’t want to write, the only one Loki insisted that I had to write. So, here it is…
I close my eyes in the dark, seeing only the flash of candlelight through my eyelids. I touch my finger to the Runes in my lap, hearing Your Voice all the while:
“Sever the ties binding you to the past. Break the chains which hold you hostage, and they will have no power over you.”
I know very well the “they” You speak of. They are the men who have hurt me, all those who have left their mark upon me by stealing away my pride and self-compassion. Can anyone know how much a raped woman hates herself? How her beauty, her skin, her very flesh, becomes a betrayal of her truest self? Can anyone know how much she wants to die?
My thoughts descend into that madness, once again, the reviled emotions. But, You know. You, above all others know, and that is why You have come.
“Do it!” You command. Shaking, I place the first Rune upon the diagram I have drawn out for You. A spiraling web of unfortunate events, descending into my core, far back, deep into the past. There, in the center… Kenaz, the torchlight, the fire of my soul. I place the Rune there, and I am filled with the drive to continue for the first time since we began this dance of destruction.
“Severance,” I whisper to myself, and You nod. “Severance,” I whisper once more, while placing the next Rune upon the web… and the next… and the next… again and again, together with the sound of severance on my lips, until the web gleams orange from the candlelight flickering upon bright carnelian.
Finally, I have marked the path that shall take me back to the lost, abandoned pieces of my soul, so I may sever them from the grasp of those wretched memories, and You kiss my cheek, smiling in that playfully dangerous way.
“There are no chains, but those we place upon ourselves,” You state, as sure as ever.
The tears come then, flowing like white water, crashing upon the rocks of my rage, as I again relive the trauma… the pain. Severance. No longer shall the unworthy claim any part of me. And no longer will I give them any power.
I close my eyes, letting the tears soak the diagram beneath my clenching fists. This is not how it was supposed to be. Tears were never in the plan… not in my plan, at least. But, as I peel back my strained eyelids, carrying both my power and my pain, I am met by Your steady gaze, and the feel of Your hands grasping mine.
So, I do… and I feel myself shatter. The sensation is familiar, one which I have experienced many times, and instinctually, I begin to pull the broken pieces back together. From all around, they come. From way down deep in my core, they come. All the broken, pretty pieces come. But, trailing behind them still are the traumas, which even now, desperately cling to the broken pieces.
“Severance!” You shout into my ear, and I am again renewed with purpose.
My arms raise; one to embrace the pretty pieces, the other to slice away the web binding them. And with sharp, red talons, I sever them all. When it is done, I am whole once more, basking in the glory of my own sacredness, and I look toward You to see Your self-satisfied smirk…
Oh, Fearless One, I thank You, for teaching me not to fear what needs to be done. All hail Loki Laufeysson, from this day until Ragnarok comes, and forever after!