Mean Girls

Hyenas are ugly creatures, all teeth, razor like hair and let’s not forget they prey on the weak. They move in packs, laughing so loud that the sounds resonates anything but legitimacy. They have arched backs like their bones don’t quite fit their skin and it’s all about skin, how good people look in skin, how good they feel in their own skin. There is nothing honorable in a Hyena as they essentially spend their lives looking for the half dead, the depleted, the worm out, the weak.

We all know them, seen them, felt their bite, hell some of us have even been them.

They always move in packs of many – many unidentifiable faces molded into masses of humiliation, pain, and sequins. Ugliness beyond what any artist could smudge away. They come in every age and shape but all with the same qualities of sneering, ugliness, cruelty and fear.

Fear is what binds them, moves them forward, makes them do the unthinkable. Fear is the essence of the Hyena.

I know a story that isn’t story because it’s true, of an amazing woman who was fed to the Hyenas. She built a life of quality and walked into a room of quantity and became confused. She was weakened by a tough week, month, year just the sort of prey these scavengers love. She walked in with a smile and had it swiped from her own face.

I work with animals and the kind of confidence you can’t fake as they sense the sweat before it drips from your brow.

Self esteem is a wondrous thing, we all seek it, read about it, and learn ways to capture it but in the end submit to a life without it.

But I know a secret something I’ve learnt with the sewn on stripes of years, on my face, hands and heart.

Hyenas are scared stiff and all it takes is a BOO to scare them away.

This story about a girl that isn’t a story as it’s true is licking her wounds but one day, and I think one day soon, she will realise that those people with the blank faces and hearts were viscous because she possessed something they will never.

They will never know her humility; they will never match her intelligence, her grace, her kindness, her spirit. Their hollow logs will never be filled with the gooey love she possesses.

Animals and humans alike move in pack for protection. They think like the crowd in fear of not being the crowd, they move in synergy to confused, startle and distract from the fact that they have nothing to offer, think, say, give.

This blog is personal as it’s about someone I love, someone I wasn’t there to protect, instead I was stuck on the train station without a train. Yet all the harm, humiliation and hurt were dished to her with a purpose, with a lesson that I could never teach with mere well intended words.

There is a place where, if we are lucky, we belong. In this place we feel brave, strong, sexy, funny, complete.

Hyenas melt on contact in this place.

xxx