Why Women Weep

I was inspired to write these stories after listening to anecdotes shared by women, often told out loud for the first time. These stories follow a timeline of real life for women and are all true; all are honest in depicting the many experiences we all share. I write about those pivotal moments in time when our world tilts and life will never be the same again. Those jolting shocks, which change our direction and alter our perception of what is important; they change our acceptance of what is normal. Those moments when what we have previously determined is important, relevant or necessary is made redundant, and the unexpected, unprepared must be faced. Stories of grieving the loss of illusion.I thought I would be writing positive stories of achievement and proud moments of success for women and for those they love. And there are many exhilarating tales of self-actualization and achievement. But I have been profoundly shocked and disturbed by the stories of abuse, self sacrifice and endurance many of us have encountered. Stories of lonely sacrifice and stoic family support, old-fashioned stereotypes belonging to an era long ago in an age before feminism and gender equality. Stories which we shouldn’t have to live in modern today. These are experiences we can’t talk about in every day situations, because the emotions are so much bigger than the words; the full horror is captured in images in our minds. These moments are difficult to vocalize, describe, record. Words fail us. And when attempted the communication of such words is sometimes so raw and so powerful, it makes us vulnerable all over again. Often it is easier to swallow words than to attempt to join them cohesively into an explanation. We flounder as we try to express the renewed joy in life a kindness brings and drown as the blackness of disbelief washes over us.Some words are easy to visualize, they resonate within us, their meaning easily identified – ‘agony’ emits pain, ‘joy’ makes us smile, ‘sunshine’ is warmth. Some words describe themselves – we hear ‘bubble’ and we see a soap bubble, ‘whisper’ and we lean forward to hear. Other words are oblique, they slip away from their meaning: ‘Heartbreak’ is such a straight image for the anguish of being rejected by a lover; ‘betrayal’ in no way evokes the bewilderment of abandonment, ‘labour’ does not reveal the shock of birthing pains, while ‘abuse’ is such a small word for the horror of being emotionally, physically, sexually destroyed.And so I have tried to re-tell the stories in a way which reflects the original event and captures the emotional turmoil experienced. There are stories of wondrous events of jubilation at being given a second chance, scenes of heartfelt kindness, and there are sinister and horrible times we can’t accept as true. Listening to these stories has moved me and filled me with admiration for the bravery of women. I have learned sometimes we need to talk, sometimes we need to listen, and sometimes we just need to be available to our family, friends. Because the events causing women to weep are universal. They happen to all of us; we are not unique in our joy of life, the shock experienced by betrayal or the grief death brings. These experiences cross over our cultures and ages and breech our economic status - they encompass the full range of female roles. And yet often we are so traumatised by these events (or so appalled) we hide the pain, and force ourselves to endure seemingly serenely. In many of these episodes we feel isolated. With no one on the outside cheering us on, no warm calls of encouragement, we are forced to search within ourselves for the strength to go on, discover deep inside ourselves the resilience or defiance needed to survive. When we should be reaching out for support, we lock ourselves up inside and stand alone. My hope is for us to recognise both ourselves and those we know in these stories.