25 Nov Seven Words: From Self-Blame to Collective Power
*Women’s Voices Rising Series | Sacred rage, embodied wisdom, and collective power*
**Part Two of “Seven Words: When Truth Gets Sacrificed on the Altar of Denial”*
*Content Warning: This piece discusses domestic violence and trauma. Please prioritize your well-being in choosing when and how to engage with this material.*
Seven Words:
“
What did I do to provoke him?”
Whispered in mirrors,
Echoed through generations,
A desperate prayer for control
In an uncontrollable storm.
Seven words that turn violence inward,
Transform victim into architect,
Pain into personal failure,
Terror into self-doubt,
Love into labor,
Safety into performance,
Survival into shame.
Seven words that bind us
…To the lie that “perfect” behavior
To the myth of our making,
That Could prevent the inevitable,
Could calm the storm,
Could keep us safe.
“Seven words that bind us to the fiction of our fault”
Seven words that hide truth:
That no love should require perfection,
That no peace should demand surrender,
That no safety should cost a soul,
That no woman should carry
The weight of another’s violence
In the cage of her own blame.
…Seven Words
Seven words passed down
Like poisoned inheritance,
Mother to daughter,
Woman to woman,
Each of us learning
To swallow rage
And taste it like love.
Seven words that kept us
Searching our mirrors for answers,
Studying our faces for flaws,
Measuring our words for mistakes,
Watching our steps for missteps,
Holding our breath for safety,
Shrinking our light for survival.
Seven words that taught us
To navigate chaos like ceremony,
To read rage like weather patterns,
To translate tension like poetry,
To speak peace like spells,
To move through fear like water,
To wear shame like armor.
Seven words that bound us
Until we learned to speak
Seven different words:
“This burden was never mine to carry”
And found in that truth
The key to our chains,
The map to our freedom.
The Statistics We Know, The Truth We Live
These seven words echo across generations, whispered in countless bathrooms, spoken in therapists’ offices, thought in silent moments of doubt. The statistics tell us one story: Every year, more than 10 million Americans experience domestic violence. On a typical day, domestic violence hotlines receive approximately 19,159 calls. More than 1 in 3 women (35.6%) experience intimate partner violence, sexual violence, or stalking in their lifetimes.
But numbers can’t capture how violence lives not just in bruises, but in the way women learn to question their every word, their every move, their very right to exist as themselves.
When Love and Violence Dance Together
There’s a language only women’s bodies know. A silent vocabulary of survival passed down through generations. But there’s an even quieter language – the one we speak to ourselves in the dark hours when love and fear dance together in our hearts, when those seven words echo in our minds:
“What did I do to provoke him?”
I first whispered these words in the bathroom mirror, holding a cold washcloth to my swollen lip while my children slept. But that same day had started with morning prayers, smudging sage, our family gathered around the breakfast table, his gentle voice teaching our children about their Native traditions. This was the impossible mathematics of our life – the same hands that passed the sage could turn to violence, the same voice that spoke prayers could rain down terror.
We were a family before we were a statistic. Beautiful, even.
Our dinner table held laughter, stories, traditions passed down through generations. Our children grew up with sweetgrass, cedar and sage, with ceremonies and songs, with a father who, when sober, could fill a room with love and laughter. But they also grew up learning to read the subtle shifts in energy that signaled danger, developing the same hypervigilance that became my second skin.
These seven words became more than a question – they became a lens through which I viewed everything. Each moment runs through the filter of possible provocation. Each choice weighed against potential consequences. Each action measured for its capacity to keep peace or trigger violence.
But here’s what no one tells you about violence:
- It doesn’t live in the bruises.
- It lives in the questions we ask ourselves.
- It lives in the way we scan our faces in mirrors,
- Looking for what we might have done wrong.
- Looking for ways to be smaller.
- Looking for the woman we used to be.
>>>>>—<<<<<
The Weight of Shame
In this dance between survival and self-blame, shame becomes our constant companion. Shame doesn’t arrive all at once. It builds slowly, like sediment in still water. Each whispered “What did I do?” adding another layer, until you’re carrying years of accumulated blame in your body.
For years, I listened to shame’s voice more clearly than my own. Trusted its warnings more than my body’s wisdom. Believed its stories more than my own memories.
I learned its language fluently:
“If only I had…”
“I should have known…”
“I must have done something…”
“Maybe if I just…”
“How can i fix this…”
Words that echoed in mirrors,
In sleepless nights,
In quiet moments of doubt.
>>>>>—<<<<<
The Body’s Ancient Wisdom
But beneath the shame, beneath the fear, another truth was growing. My body was always speaking. I learned to trust its warnings – the sudden grip of fear, the flutter of anxiety, the instinct to make myself small. I became fluent in the language of survival, but more than that – I became an intuitive master of unseen energies. Reading the subtle shifts in atmospheric pressure when he walked through the door. Sensing the gathering storm before the first cloud appeared. Dancing in the spaces between words, between breaths, between moments, trying to shift the energy before it could explode.
This wasn’t just hypervigilance. This was ancient wisdom awakening in our cells.
Women know this dance.
This ability to read the invisible, to navigate the unspoken, to feel the tremors of emotion before they surface.
We become masters of energetic alchemy –
transmuting tension, redirecting anger, smoothing the jagged edges of volatile moments.
Our bodies learn to read these currents like ancient sailors read the stars, mapping safe passage through dangerous waters.
But even as I mastered this dance of survival, something deeper was stirring. What I didn’t understand was that my body was telling me more, so much more.
That knot in my stomach wasn’t just fear – it was rage saying “This is not okay.”
Those clenched fists weren’t just tension – they were strength waiting to be remembered.
The tightness in my throat wasn’t just silence – it was truth waiting to be spoken.
It would be years before I understood: my body wasn’t just protecting me. It was preserving me. Keeping alive the woman who knew her worth, who claimed her space, who spoke her truth. Even as I learned the careful choreography of survival, my body held onto something fierce and fundamental: I was meant for more than this.
Beyond Personal Survival: A Collective Truth
This knowing lives in all of us.
What began as one woman’s survival becomes every woman’s story.
Every girl grows up with her own trigger warning built-in. We learn it early: Don’t walk alone at night. Hold your keys like a weapon. Check your backseat. Watch your drink. Don’t wear that. Don’t go there. Don’t trust too easily. The world shapes us into hypervigilance before we even understand why.
The statistics confirm what our bodies already know:
97% of women have experienced sexual harassment.
Every 68 seconds, an American is sexually assaulted.
One in four women will face intimate partner violence.
One in five will survive rape or attempted rape. In their lifetime,
81% of women will experience some form of verbal harassment,
and 24% have experienced online harassment.
These numbers aren’t just statistics – they’re the lived experiences etched into women’s bodies, minds, and spirits across generations.
But here’s what the statistics don’t tell you:
In every woman’s body lives not just the history of survival, but the wisdom of generations.
Our bodies hold more than trauma – they hold truth. They hold power.
They hold a knowing deeper than fear, stronger than conditioning, older than shame
This isn’t just about surviving. This is about reclaiming what was always ours:
Our right to safety.
Our right to trust our instincts.
Our right to take up space.
Our right to say no.
Our right to be fully, unapologetically ourselves
>>>>>—<<<<<
The Wisdom That Transforms
And here’s the truth that changes everything:
Our wisdom isn’t fragile. It’s not some delicate thing that needs perfect conditions to thrive.
It’s been tested in fire, shaped by storms, strengthened by every attempt to silence it. It lives in muscle and bone, in heartbeat and breath, in the way our bodies react before our minds can form the words “something’s not right.”
We’ve been taught to doubt this wisdom. To second-guess our instincts. To override that gut feeling that says “danger” or “no” or “this isn’t right.” We’ve been told we’re too sensitive, too emotional, too cautious, too much
But here’s what your body knows:
That flutter in your stomach isn’t anxiety – it’s radar
That tension in your shoulders isn’t stress – it’s armor
That fire in your chest isn’t rage – it’s power
That knot in your throat isn’t fear – it’s truth waiting to be spoken
>>>>>—<<<<<
This is where personal power becomes collective revolution.
Every woman who reclaims her right to trust these signals helps break the chain of doubt. Every woman who says “I feel what I feel” makes it easier for others to do the same. Every woman who chooses to believe her body’s wisdom helps create a world where we all can live unafraid, unapologetic, unleashed.
The Revolution of Coming Home
This truth transforms everything.
This power isn’t about fighting. It’s about finally coming home to ourselves. Finally trusting what we’ve always known. Finally understanding that our bodies weren’t built for fear – they were built for freedom.
Think about it: Beyond our primal fears – those ancient survival instincts wired into our DNA – lies a deeper knowing. Before conditioning taught us to doubt ourselves, we knew how to run just for the joy of running. Before society’s fears layered over our instincts, we knew how to laugh without measuring its volume. Before the world taught us to shrink, we knew how to take up all the space we needed.
That wisdom never left us. It lives in every woman who’s ever:
- Walked away from a situation that looked fine but felt wrong
- Trusted her gut about someone everyone else trusted
- Said no when everything in her conditioning said to say yes
- Chose herself when the world said to choose smaller
This is how we reclaim our power – not all at once, but in moments.
In choices. In small acts of trusting ourselves. In bigger acts of standing our ground.
In the revolutionary act of believing our bodies when they speak to us.
But the real revolution happens when we stand together.
And when we do this together? When we hold space for each other’s knowing? When we validate each other’s instincts instead of questioning them? That’s when everything shifts.
That’s when…
“What did I do to provoke him?”
transforms to
“What does my body know that I need to hear?”
>>>>>—<<<<<
Creating a New World
This isn’t just about personal safety anymore. It’s about creating a world where our daughters won’t need to learn fear as their second language. Where “be careful” isn’t the first thing we teach our girls. Where trusting their instincts isn’t an act of rebellion but their natural birthright.
I see it happening already. Women gathering in circles, sharing stories, holding space for each other’s truths. Not just surviving together, but remembering together. Remembering what our bodies always knew before shame and fear taught us to forget.
We’re learning to speak a new language:
- “Your boundaries are valid” when others call her difficult
- “I believe you” when a woman says something feels wrong
- “Trust yourself” when she questions her knowing
- “You’re not crazy” when her body signals danger that others can’t see
- “Your feelings are real” when the world tells her she’s too sensitive
This is how we break the chain of those seven words. Not by pretending violence doesn’t exist, but by refusing to let fear be the only story we tell. Not by ignoring danger, but by honoring our power to recognize it, name it, and choose differently.
Our bodies have always known the way home. Through every generation of silence, through every layer of doubt, through every whispered “What did I do wrong?” – our bodies kept the truth safe until we were ready to reclaim it.
The Future We’re Creating
We can craft a world where safety isn’t just about learning to watch our backs, but about standing together. Where freedom isn’t just about escape, but about creating spaces where we can all breathe fully, speak clearly, live authentically.
Look around you. See the woman at the grocery store, measuring her words carefully. The girl on the bus, making herself smaller. The mother in the park, scanning constantly for danger. Each of us carrying those seven words in some form. Each of us holding wisdom deeper than our fears.
Now imagine:
- What if we taught our daughters to trust their instincts before we taught them to doubt themselves?
- What if we believed our own bodies before we believed the voices telling us we’re wrong?
- What if we held each other’s truths as sacred as our own?
This is where healing becomes revolution. Not in grand gestures, but in daily moments of choosing to trust ourselves. In supporting other women when they say “something feels off” instead of saying “you’re overreacting.” In creating spaces where our collective wisdom can flourish.
Because here’s what I know now: Those seven words were never just about violence. They were about making us question our every knowing, our every instinct, our every right to be fully ourselves. But our bodies never stopped speaking truth. They never stopped pointing toward freedom.
Finding Our Way Home
This journey isn’t linear. It doesn’t follow the clean arc of trauma to triumph that people want to hear. Some days I still catch myself in the old patterns – checking the emotional weather, measuring my words, questioning my right to stand firm.
But my body remembers the way home. It remembers in the way my feet plant themselves firmly when I speak my truth. In how my breath deepens when I set a boundary. In how my heart expands when I witness another woman finding her way back to herself.
This is what freedom feels like:
- Not the absence of fear, but the presence of trust in ourselves
- Not the end of danger, but the deep knowing that we can face it
- Not the silencing of those seven words, but the rising of our own voice above them
>>>>>—<<<<<
The Spiral Path of Healing
Here’s what I’ve learned in the thirty years since those seven words first crossed my lips: Healing isn’t linear. My children’s father and I spent as many years apart as we did together – three decades of knowing each other through marriage, love, prayer, abuse, and ultimately, healing. Through ceremony and song, through our children’s eyes and hearts, we found our way to forgiveness. The alcohol that transformed him might have taken his life in the end, but it couldn’t take the healing we achieved together, even after our family structure changed.
Each year unearths new layers of understanding. Each telling of this story reveals another facet of truth. Through prayer, through community, through the steady drum of women’s wisdom, I found ways to hold both the harm and the healing. In circles of women, in ceremony, in quiet moments of shared understanding, I witnessed how personal healing becomes collective power. Each woman’s story of rising strengthens another’s spine, each voice breaking silence makes room for others to speak.
Today, I’m still navigating old layers of trauma, still discovering new pathways to freedom. But I’m no longer afraid to tell my story. No longer concerned about painting this world in shadows. Because this story isn’t just about violence – it’s about the incredible resilience of women’s spirits, the eternal wisdom we carry in our bones, the power we hold when we stand together.
This truth lives in every woman who’s ever questioned her worth, who’s ever wondered if she was too much or not enough, who’s ever whispered those seven words in the dark. We rise together. We heal together. We remember together. And in that remembering, we find not just survival, but transformation.
>>>>>—<<<<<
To Every Woman…
To every woman who’s ever whispered those words in the dark:
Your body hasn’t betrayed you
Your instincts aren’t wrong
Your feelings aren’t too much
Your boundaries aren’t selfish
Your voice isn’t too loud
Your power isn’t too fierce
Your wisdom isn’t misguided
AND IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT!
>>>>>—<<<<<
We’re all finding our way back. Back to trusting our knowing. Back to honoring our instincts. Back to believing our bodies when they speak to us. And we’re doing it together, holding space for each other’s journey, witnessing each other’s power, creating something new from the ashes of what tried to silence us.
This is how we transform those seven words from shame to power:
Not by forgetting, but by remembering who we were before fear taught us to be small
Not by fighting, but by finally coming home to ourselves
Not alone, but together
Rising, remembering, reclaiming
One truth, one moment, one woman at a time
Until all of us are free.
Seven words that bound us
Until we learned to speak
Seven different words:
“This burden was never mine to carry”
And found in that truth
The key to our chains,
The map to our freedom.
>>>>>—<<<<<
Related Reading: The Hidden Strength in Being Too Much: A Single Mother’s Truth
Related Reading: The Hidden Health Risks of a Dysregulated Nervous System: Unveiling the Root Cause of Chronic Illness
Related Reading: The Silent Struggle: How Ignoring Our Inner Voice Fuels Chronic Illness and Autoimmune Disease in Women
*About the Author: Jennifer Markman is a Functional Health Practitioner FDN-P, a healer, coach, and advocate for women’s voices and embodied wisdom. Through her work, she helps women reclaim their power, trust their knowing, and transform their lives.*
Related Resources:
**If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence or sexual assault, please know you are not alone.
Help is available 24/7:
National Domestic Violence Hotline
CALL: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)
Text “START” to 88788
www.thehotline.org
Available 24/7. All calls are free and confidential.
National Sexual Assault Hotline
CALL: 1-800-656-HOPE (4673)
www.rainn.org
Free, confidential support available 24/7
These services provide:
Crisis intervention
Safety planning
Information about local resources
Support in multiple languages
Trained advocates who listen without judgment
Remember: Your safety matters. Your story matters. Your healing matters.
This article is for informational and supportive purposes only and is not intended as a substitute for professional medical or mental health advice. If you are in immediate danger, please call 911.
Take the Leap: Your Voice is Essential
Thank you for taking the time to read and connect with this post. Women’s voices, stories, and healing are close to my heart, and I believe in the transformative power of sharing our truths.
If any part of this post resonated with you, if you felt seen, heard, or inspired, I invite you to take the next step. Perhaps you’re curious about your own journey of self-discovery, or you’re ready to share your story and step into your power.
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>>>>>—<<<<<
This is women’s wisdom. This is women’s strength. This is women’s revolution
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