The CoyoteApr 04 '08 Write an essay on this topic.
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The coyote is a carnivore with its range in the North American west, though it can be found to the far north and south as well. Although sexually compatible with wolves, the species is more adaptable to human encroachment and tends to breed more commonly with the dog. There are many tales about the coyote. Native American folklore describes the coyote as a trickster god along the lines of Loki. Inhabitants of southwestern portion of the United States look upon them as a menace to their stock, with a tendency to carry off their best cow, goat, sheep, or cousin’s brother-in-law’s, best-friend’s, uncle’s only child. Another story about the coyote is that, when caught in a toothed steel trap, he will gnaw off his own leg to escape and live, rather than stay in a trap and certain death. And there is the man story about the Coyote Woman. This happens when a man goes on a three-day drinking binge and wakes up in an unknown location, barely remembering his own name. But coming to the inescapable conclusion that he is in a strange bed with a dawg ugly woman asleep on his arm. In which case the only thing to do is to gnaw off his own arm to get the hell out of there before she wakes up. But those are stories about the coyote, and this is a story about me. Coming out of a twenty year relationship is hard enough. Coming out of a mentally, physically, and sexually abusive relationship leaves one not certain about who you are. It’s been five years since I found the courage to leave my husband, and those years have been exhilarating in a way. They have been years of learning about almost everything, as I was so isolated during my marriage that I didn’t have much contact with the real world. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even have much contact with myself. I had hidden much of who I was, in order to survive. After being in hiding for so long, it’s sometimes difficult to find yourself and a lot of times what you find is very much different than what you thought you hid. So yes, exploring who you are can be exhilarating, but it can also be very painful. The very most painful growth concerns reality. It concerns finding out who you truly are and where that leaves you. One of the things I’m uncovering is physical. Because of the sexual abuse, I hid myself in layers of fat. Hoping to be thought of as not attractive or sexually appealing. I know that abuse is not about attraction, but about power, and hiding myself in fat didn’t really make a difference. I’ve never claimed to be a genius, and never really caught on that it wasn’t working. This made me feel as though I had control of that much at least. But finally, almost six months ago, my ex signed the divorce decree. It took over four years to get him to that point, but it happened and I was ready to work on my weight. And I have. My doctor is really proud of my progress, though I know I’ve still a ways to go. I am a work in progress both physically and mentally and this is one area that seems to be moving right along. Another aspect I’ve been working on is relationships. Non-abusive ones. I don’t always know how to react in a normal relationship, as I’ve not much experience in actually having a normal relationship. And I’m having to work just as hard on that aspect as I am with the physical portion of finding myself. I wonder if a failed relationship is a normal relationship. Probably depends on the reason for failure, I would think. Hopefully I’ll learn to sort that out fairly soon. I have now had two, post-divorce, failed relationships. Each was very much a learning experience. My first failed relationship was rather short lived and very intense. It was all about sex, you see. And I learned from that relationship. I very much needed to learn that sex can be serious or fun or warm, but it doesn’t have to be abusive. So I consider that relationship time well spent, and will always smile when I think about that time. The second relationship… I’ve always known that I am not beautiful, but I’ve never considered myself dawg ugly either. ‘Til the morning I woke up using a gnawed off arm as a pillow. Kinda gives you a very rude awakening. You could consider it shock treatment maybe. Am I a Coyote Woman? So I spent the next few days in hiding. Hiding from myself again, and hiding from the reality that was about to smack me in the face. Yes. I am a Coyote Woman. Talk about painful… But the longer I thought, the less I felt the need to hide. I am me and if that me is a Coyote Woman, then so be it. I’m actually getting used to not worrying about it any more. I never have to worry about the “do these pants make my butt look big?” question. The answer is yes. They can’t not make my butt look big, because my butt is just that - big. The only thing that matters to me anymore is that the pants are comfortable. Because I’m a comfortable kind of person. Same goes with makeup and hairstyles and everything that goes along with what is considered attractive. I don’t worry about these things any more. Because I am a Coyote Woman. I’m still to much of a GRITS (Girl Raised In The South) to wear white before Easter, or wear black shoes with a brown outfit, but all in all it’s been rather freeing. No, I cannot say I smile when I look back at that time. Waking up with a gnawed off arm for a pillow is not an experience I would wish on anyone. But I did learn from the relationship and I have grown a bit in figuring out who I am. Which is a good thing. Hi. It’s me. The Coyote Woman.  |
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