Medusa II

[bodhicea]

I was frightened of what I would see in his face when I revealed myself. But I did it: tore off the mask. I was expecting to see a flash as he raised his shield, or horror frozen upon him. I expected repulsion, fear, hate. Instead, when I removed the mask, he looked at me steadily, accepting this new me, as if there was no surprise, as if what

Comments

[yonica]

Sounds like you were distracted by this idealized image of yourself that you thought he saw/wanted. And now, you've both been liberated from that. Now, you can love him for him and not that pedestal woman you'd kind of like to be.

Narcissist begone! ;)

[bodhicea]

I should have titled that last entry Narcissus, not Medusa, huh? There's certainly some level of combination of those two myths. Medusa in love with herself as Narcissus?

It's so much better to be loved as Medusa, though, let me tell you. Interaction with a human being (even another snaky-headed beast) is much more pleasant than interaction with a reflective surface.

[hollsterhambone]

I thought you might like this:

Freud Medusa’s Head, 1922

you exhibitionist

[bodhicea]

I think this is exactly the reason that yonica suggested I add you. Thanks.

I am not, generally, very fond of Freud, but this passage gives me a bit to think about (once I dismiss all of his penis obsession). Was the ripping off of my mask, revealing my snaky-headed-ness, an apotropaic act? When my audience didn't take flight, did that mean he wasn't the devil?

If my Medusa head does relate to female genitalia, by revealing it, was I becoming a Sheela-na-gig?