'The sisters of NO mercy cannot hurt us anymore’ by Mary Marshall. |
The painting depicts the impact of abuse on a minor resulting in
dissociation of the victim from their body.
We are the True Sisterhood
Beautiful, brave and bold
We are the stories which were never told
We are the voices of the broken young
We are the anthem of liberty being sung
You would think a female adult in the role
of a Catholic nun would want to nurture and bring well being onto young girl’s
lives. You would expect a Catholic nun to promote a young girl’s self esteem, respect
their individuality and nurture their capabilities. For many young girls being
entombed in a world of Catholicism in the 1960’s and 1970’s the opposite was
experienced. I was raised a Catholic and attended Catholic schools from
childhood into puberty. As a young child I rapidly grew to loathe the nun’s pompous,
saintly names, the huge crucifixes dangling on their black doomsday robes, the
sound of their feet coming down the corridor, their voices, bulbous eyes and
pasty, white faces protruding from their habits. Enmeshed we young girls were in a world of their
sinister smirks, sadomasochistic mores and utterly, unchallenged power.
Nothing was out of bounds for the nuns to
perpetrate onto young girls be it psychological torment, physical violence or
sexual abuse. Pure hate burning in their
eyes like acid rain which tore and ate at our psyches. I clung tenaciously to a
golden thread of hope eventually I could flee it all. Why did you not tell
someone about it all? one could well ask. The era was one where you couldn’t
talk about it and didn’t talk about it. No-one did. The priests and nuns were
revered to the extent that no-one would have believed you even if you told them
– somehow it would always be your own fault and in a twisted way (aka misplaced
shame) I thought it was too. No-one would have helped you. Of that I am
certain.
The day I turned 16 years old I left the
Roman Catholic school system and my rabidly Catholic family home but the damage
had been done. I was deeply traumatised
from years of abuse by the nuns but stuffed it all down inside myself. Inevitably it all emerged sideways in the form
of addiction, rages, self harm, self hate, nightmares and general dysfunction. Decades of it. But that was then – this is now. I want to tell you about the True Sisterhood.
We are the true Sisterhood
Beautiful, brave and bold
We are the stories which were never told
We are the voices of the broken young
We are the anthem of liberty being sung
Sisters bound together from years of unshed tears
We are more than an obscene curse which raped our childhood
We no longer implode our rage
We are the child-girl-women all bound into one
We are more than times of washing and washing our bodies but never
feeling clean
More than terror, thrashings, bruised bodies
More than cruel words piercing brain
More than enforced shame
We know exactly where to place the blame
We have scaled the mountains of self hate
and sailed the ocean of misplaced shame.
We have grown wings and soared far
above suicidal ideation.
We have learnt to choose life not death.
We have learnt how to love, laugh and cry
We are all about healing
and the feeling
of being IN our bodies NOT
dissociated.
We are the older women always
here for our young sisters.
We are scarred and show
you our scars
so they never become yours.
We are the True Sisterhood
speaking into young girls lives
words of hope, clarity and love.
True sisterhood builds up never tears down.
True sisterhood takes a young girl’s hand
and guides her into fulfilment.
True sisterhood recognises the vulnerabilities
in young girls and protects them.
True Sisterhood never
inflicts trauma and decimation.
Sin-e.
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