Your Muse

This is written in honour of women who suffer from domestic abuse and violence and in particular for my friend Zoe. She is emerging from the shell of the person she had become, to blossom and shine through and to once again embrace the glorious woman she has always been and will continue to be.

 

What happened? What is love?

Is it the tingle, the rush to see each other,

The bliss of togetherness and the desire for more

Or is it the steady pace of eroding my confidence

In a light-hearted yet relenting onslaught of your

Perceived kindness and outward caring

That all can see and wonder about

In admiration and perhaps envy?

I, who love you am left in confusion and more

And my self-image torn asunder under your

Tutelage and careful grooming to morph

Myself through your sculpting hands into

Your idea or the model of your notion

The constant sound of your voice

Instructing me in how I should present

Myself to compliment the image of

How I appear in your imagination

Your perfect muse to my pathetic

Attempt to mound myself and be your

Everlasting ideal of perfection

Even my culinary creations no

Longer please you, nor the

Outfit that earned the compliments

Of others. The invitations no longer

Arrive and my friends avoid us or shun

The call for a social gathering. Perhaps

You’re right as my carefree laughter

And sense of the ridiculous are at odds

 

With all and anyway, I no longer find

Life amusing or entertaining

How is it your kind instructions only

Make me more useless and in following

Them, more clumsy and inept?

I creep down the stairs in strained silence

To ward off your irritation at the sight of me

Does this outfit become me? Is my hair in place?

I did not wear my mother’s necklace nor the

Lipstick that matches so well. I seem to have

Lost my way and no longer want to shop

My voice seems to irritate you as does the

Once lilting laugh that you treasured

How can I please you, I ask myself in vain.

Why am I a constant source of bother

A rash that itches to cause you undue pain

I feel so unworthy of your time and effort

And your patience is beginning to wear thin

I’m trying to please you but I no longer

Have it within me to conquer the fear

That is my constant companion

How did I get to where I am

Why am I so pathetic. I don’t deserve

Your kindness nor your attention

To detail. You surprise me at your attentiveness

It bewilders the pathetic person that I am

Why are you still with me?

More importantly, why am I still here?

 

(C) Wendy Robinson September 2015

Just when the caterpillar thought its life was over, it became a butterfly. ~ Proverb

 

White Ribbon Day began on November 25th and this Australian and international, male-led campaign will incorporate 16 days of Activism in promoting protection of and preventing domestic violence against women.

Domestic violence is often mistakenly viewed as a physical assault when it can also comprise of mental, emotional and psychological abuse. Mental abuse often erodes the confidence of the abused and robs them of their dignity and independence and they can end up questioning their self-worth as did my friend Zoe.

I would recommend reading Susan Chenery’s essay in Fury: Women Write about Sex, Power and Violence. “Still wrapped up in the glow of the ‘great love,’ you don’t know you’re in danger,” she states. A smart and educated woman, the author candidly relates about the mental and physical abuse she suffered at the hands of the handsome and charming Marco and her essay piece gives a clear account of ‘mental and emotional’ abuse.

Disclaimer: The images are from the White Ribbon Day photo gallery and my thanks go to the various photographers for their work.

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