The Heiress (William Wyler, 1949)
Moments of unbridled weeping as I rewatched The Heiress for an upcoming episode. Memories of men's rejection of me, the deep wounds it has left in my soul. I have had to make my way in a world that did not want me, did not value me. I have violently ached for love, care, and acceptance. It's a dangerous ache. A destructive one.
What would I not do for love? I have often wondered. I am thankful to be unattractive and left alone by men. The few I went close to only hurt me. I am thankful men do not want me. I want them too much. And that is a dangerous thing for a woman.
I won't spoil the ending of the film, but it is masterful, cathartic, and invigorating. It reminds me to continue deepening my relationship with myself. Deepening my love, respect, and care for myself. I am developing what I call a sacred spinster path. I choose my own wholeness. I belong to myself. My solitude is sacred, even spiritual.
I've come to this path through terrible grief—grief over what I missed out on, grief over not being romantically loved, grief over my invisibility and smallness in the world. I may be alone and unwanted, but I am free. My freedom is the most important thing to me now.
"Cruel" by Tori Amos
I can be cruel
I don't know why