Chapter 8: Power
I used to think of power as a nasty word. A nonsense word. A nihilistic word.
But I knew NOTHING. As time goes and moves and shifts and I go nearer and drearier to the grave, I find myself aching, arching, aiming to be in my power. To be polished, precise, sitting pretty and pleasing no one but my all powerful self. Done are the days of the undecided. The uber cautious. The unmistakably desperate-to-be-approved self of mine. Power is a pendulum and it swings to the beat of my heart. Power is a panting lioness doing what she has to protect her cubs. Power is a pony who feels it's a horse even though it is four feet tall. Power is sultry. Sensual. Salty. Sassy. Seductive. Sparing. Sneaky. Smoldering. So so so unbelievably HOT.
But no, if you were wondering, power to me is NOT the big C corporate power. The cock power. The cunt power. That so-called 'power' that belongs only to the kings and queens who are detached from the world. They may call it power but I call is DENIAL. No, power isn't that. Not at all.
Power is the ground you walk on when you are absolutely sure of your next step. You may not know where it will take you, but in your power - you KNOW you will take it. Power is the decisive, distinctive, delightful knowing inside of you that longs to be front and center. It doesn't harm. It doesn't cheat. It isn't mean. And no, contrary to popular belief, it isn't queen.
Power is you in your truest, toughest, tenderest self. May you go in POWER.~
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In April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling.
Header Art: Daniel Landerman