Proponents like Louise Hay claim illnesses can be traced to some sort of unresolved psychological issue, (i.e. dis-ease. New Agey types looooove them some etymological wordplay).
According to Hay--who, notably, is not alive: Back problems = "carrying the burdens of life," Cellulite= "stored anger and self-punishment," Cancer = "deep secret or grief eating away at the self" and so on. I'm not onboard with it mostly because I despise when people say stuff like "dis-ease," but also because it's victim-blaming--what the hell kind of "deep secret" could a sick baby with cancer be harboring?
And yet. Several of my friends have recently gone through health scares with parts of their bodies that are called (not here, but somewhere) "female parts." Each of them is sexually dissatisfied.
After some fretting and hand-holding, the tests are back and everyone is fine. (For now! 'Cause none of us are ever really for sure fine.)*
And now I'm having a thing too. A part of my body is asserting itself by becoming inappropriately thick. Which is not the same as being thicc, though I do like the idea of my uterus being "fat in the right places, creating sexy curves."
It's probably no big deal, but I am a big fucking worrier, and have suffered many tragic and inevitably fatal, imaginary maladies. (Although I do professional-level work, worry-wise, I am not paid for this particular skill.)
“Illness is the night side of life, a more onerous citizenship. Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick. Although we all prefer to use the good passport, sooner or later each of us is obliged, at least for a spell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that other place,” wrote Susan Sontag, who is also dead, because death cares not for your philosophy on it.
If I were going with the metaphor thing, I'd guess mine was about unresolved issues with the deepest part of my sexuality (need to develop a thicker skin? swollen with desire? being unfilled/unfulfilled--bonus for wordplay?) Louise Hay says the uterus represents the "home of creativity." Damn, girl.
Whatever happens with my sisters and me, I'm gonna take our unwanted citizenship in the kingdom of the sick as a welcome chance to do some personal reassessment--a Gift of the Vagi of sorts.
I'm going to rip off the big "TO: JILL" tag on this particular present and do some re-gifting to remind you too to go out there and fill your own box with what it truly desires.
xoxo
jill
*The inevitability of mortality--hahahaha! I'm also super fun at parties.
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