Author: Alexandra Goldburt

“Get the State out of my vagina.” – Wait, why only the vagina?

I said: – Keep the State out of my vagina. The State has no business regulating it. They cheered. They applauded. They cried: “Preach, Sister!” I then said: – Keeping the State out of my vagina is not enough, though. I want the State out of my life completely. The State has no business to dictate me how to educate my children, what substances to consume, or how to spend my honestly earned money. The State has no business to demand that I first get a license if I want to braid hair, offer nutrition advice or catch babies, as long as I neither coerce nor defraud my clients. The State has no business forcing me to buy health insurance, or demanding that I get a permission slip form a licensed doctor before getting a medication. Get the State out of all consensual activates between people. Get the State out of our lives. There were no cheers. There was no applause. Nobody cried “Preach, Sister!” Just angry, icy-cold silence replied to my...

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The Memory of My Father

It has been eleven years since my father passed away. I never had good relationships with Dad. Never. Sometimes I would feel love to him, but then I would have a flashback of some moment of my childhood or my teen years or even my early adulthood (before my marriage) when he screamed at me, or interrogated me, or stopped me from doing what I wanted to do (for my own good, of course…), or forced me to do things I hated… And then I would feel all-consuming anger, as if the screaming or interrogation episode had happened yesterday and not years ago. Even after Dad’s death, I still had those flashbacks, followed by intense inner anger. My father never told me the story of his childhood… I wonder what HIS childhood was like? Was he screamed at? Strictly controlled, prevented from doing what he wanted, forced to do things he disliked? I’ll never know for sure, but chances are, the answer to all these questions is “yes”. I’m still, at the age of 51, healing the wounds of my childhood. Fortunately, I have found many things that have helped greatly me in this healing process. One of them is this sweet little story, told by Nathaniel Branden: “I was talking with a man whom I knew for some years, and his father had died a few months earlier....

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