This article originally appeared in Rebelle Society

Don’t just sit there - REBEL


Thanks to recent grand jury decisions we have been witnessing a lot of rebellion. We have seen protests, uprisings, calls for change. We have seen people in the streets, standing up for what they believe in.


That got me to thinking about my own rebelling, my personal rebellions, my private uprisings, my deep, center of my soul screams for change. I got to wondering if I have stopped rebelling, when was the last time that I stood up to ‘the man’ and said ‘FUCK YOU’?


I fully admit that I was not exactly a pristine, precious princess as a child, or as a teenager, or as a young woman, or as I am now but when was the last time I REALLY REBELLED?


As a child I think I was in love with rebellion, at least deeply enamoured with the idea of rebellion. It is heady and empowering to imagine standing up for yourself, standing your ground, fighting for your rights, stopping the abuse. Rebellion, real or imagined, as was often the case in those early years, was my way of surviving in chaos, of escaping, or having a voice, of gaining the strength necessary to be a grown up 5 year old responsible for the adults in her life.


I loved living in my head as I imagined I told the world that I was switched at birth and Waylon Jennings was my ‘real’ dad (yup, said it – loved country back then, but then I rebelled ).  I imagined being swept up and into a life of glamour and away from the shit I was living in. From those very early years I was rebelling against the reality of my life for rebellion was the only way for me to survive.


As I turned into an adult, rebellion became even more alluring, sexy, mysterious, erotic and desirable. I loved the bad boys, the sons of anarchy, loved walking that fine line, living on the edge, loved those shades of grey. Oh the delicious, dangerous, delightful trouble my rebellion got me into.


I rebelled against authority, my parents, God, religion, rules, hypocrisy, the establishment, the system, ‘the man’, teachers, injustices both real and perceived. I rebelled against the pretty girls, the Rockefeller families, against society and its norms, marriage and divorce.


I rebelled against the scale that would mock me with its number flashing my worth, against the wrinkles that etch deeper each day and show my previous years of hard living rebellion. I rebelled against the clock that keeps ticking steadily towards the end, against the magazines that demand I look a certain way, against gross consumerism only to engage in it, against fake tits, Kardashian butts, against pimples on my ass……and where did all that rebellion get me? Did it get me change, happiness, notoriety, peace?




All that rebellion led me smack into addictions, suffering, abusive relationships and meaningless sex. Into self-hatred, Botox, magic creams and shelves full of self-help books. It led me deeper and deeper into self-loathing, shame, guilt and fear and then I got tired ~  just like the people rebelling against what they see as an unjust system, they got tired and decided to rise, to rebel, to speak for change.


Getting tired has been fucking fabulous. It has allowed me to be quiet for a while, to unplug the electronic hamster wheel and turn off all the white noise. In all that deafening silence, I hear an epic battle being waged for rebellion supremacy. I hear crisply and see clearly that my biggest, strongest, loudest, most defiant rebellion has been against myself. My face has been bloodied from my fights in the trenches with myself. I have proven to be a worthy opponent, one any general would be proud of. For I am insidious; I am sneaky, manipulative with a negative ego that is so full of fear it will stop at nothing to keep me down. I can see my negative ego sensing a shift in power and it is calling in the troops, I can see unworthiness marching in poised for battle, followed by unlovable, fear, shame, loathing, disgust, failure, loser, ugly and not good enough picking up the rear. I can also see the panic in all of them, there is uncertainty and confusion as they watch new troops marching by, troops that are bigger in stature, bigger in number and louder than all of them.


It is a full army of hope, love, desire, compassion, forgiveness, acceptance and peace and they are to fight to the death for my life.


After all these years….


After all the old rebellion….. I have grown tired of being beaten down; I have had enough of the old reality of my life.


THIS uprising,


This taking it to my streets,


This soul screaming cry for change,


THIS REBELLION is the only way for me to survive!


Lesson: don’t just sit there - REBEL!