Take Back the Night!

Late this afternoon I joined a group of women and one fella, our local MP, the evening for the Take Back the Night Walk. I decided not to participate in the walk itself as I felt pressed to get home and start packing for our trip to NYC and Vermont tomorrow. I had been asked to kick off the walk with a brief talk, more of a ‘rallying cry’, so to speak.

I woke up this early morning wondering how I would approach this, wondering what would be meaningful to this crowd of which I had so little knowledge. These invitations are usually a challenge. I take the request to participate and to speak seriously as I want to impart the perfect message for those attending. With some reflection, and I believe a little guidance from my higher power, the answer came to me.

This event is for the survivors of sexual abuse. Statistics suggest the 2 out of every 3 women are sexually abused during their life time. Isn’t that staggering? “Take Back the Night’ is at least a positive intention to over come sexual abuse and I wanted to build on this theme.

For those who have experienced abuse there are two choices, to allow the abuse to rule you or for you to take charge and live your life large anyway. At least that’s how I see it. The rallying cry – I am powerful beyond measure! I love myself unconditionally! I am worthy of being loved, respected and honored by others. I step into my own POWER! I take back the night! This is what I led the crowd in after speaking briefly about fueling our personal power with positive, affirming self-talk.

I watched the walkers leave the school where we had gathered, a police escort with their cars flashing their lights, flanking the participants. They turned off Augustus onto Second Street, a sea of feet moving slowly toward the center of town. Several women from Cornwall Island, who had arrived late, drummed softly, as rattles and other noise makers interrupted the drum’s rhythm. A large black and white banner led the parade, with Take Back the Night emblazoned across it’s width; a French banner pulled up the rear. I paused before I turned the corner to head home, waving to the passing crowd. They didn’t see me – I was now invisible.

Until next time…

Betty