Words by Elphaba Lu | Images by Elixir Black
CW: This post contains references to both emotional and sexual abuse (no explicit detail, it is merely referred to)
I grew up watching Wonder Woman. Not just the 1984 television series but also my mother who aspired to be her. She absorbed strength from her love for her family, her work, and an amazingly strong sense of self.
A Macedonian warrior. I watched my mother continue to endure, excel and strive despite a heavy weight on her shoulders and I wondered how I could learn to do the same.Wonder Woman was for me, the archetype of a superwoman, a warrior princess in a land filled with Amazonian women reaching feats I could only dream of. My mother; a mirror of her on the earthly plane.
But what does it mean to be a superwoman?
The notion was first recognised during the post second-wave feminism society in the 1970’s-1980. It’s a Western born idea that came with the shift from women fulfilling traditional ‘housewife’ roles to instead fulfilling their own career aspirations. A superwoman was thus defined as a woman who exceptionally manages to have a career and raise a family and while I do believe that it is phenomenal to see working parents balance the many demanding aspects of their lives…Isn’t it just a little archaic to link the idea of superwomen to raising children?! Particularly when Nietzsche’s Superman sits looming over this - a man who creates and imposes his own values, rising above traditional morality. Unfortunately, I am sure that we’re all familiar with men who believe and action this idea in abhorrent ways, particularly in the current context.
So, let’s abandon the false dichotomies that ignore gender spectrums and the historical confines that don’t quite get it right. Let’s talk about Superheroes and my journey towards becoming one.
As a young and impressionable woman, I looked for a role model; someone to teach me how to develop the same strength I saw in my wonder women, a yoda if you will. The force was strong, and I needed a mentor. And then I found her.
A woman that was strong, beautiful, and more experienced in every way.
Our relationship was like a rollercoaster. The highs were fuelled by infatuation, slight delusion and a dizzy head, while the lows were surrounded by depression, aggression, lying and control, and with that came a knot inside my stomach that would never quite leave.
I can say that it was not a healthy relationship by any means. And I was not healthy by any means. She was neither my superwoman nor my role model and while I knew this, I didn’t have the strength to reckon with it. Emotional abuse is tricky to spot, hard to explain and even harder to untangle yourself from. The way that words can intertwine with your sense of self is a dangerous thing. Your strength is impeded and even when the external voices stop, your own self continues the cycle, pulling the lasso tighter. I stopped seeing my friends, retracted from my social and work life and was by no means close to being a superhero. I was stuck. Entangled by the golden lasso that I had sought so badly to be the master of.
Slowly I have pulled that small and confused body out of the lasso and into a lyra and I have never looked back. After leaving a long-term and toxic relationship, one can find themselves wavering between an incredible sense of loss and freedom.
You may feel scared of taking up space because you feel sure that your strength dissipated the minute you lost the person you loved. But instead, you manage to find your OWN strength. I found my strength in the lyra. In the hoop, I hold myself in gentle tension, balancing my weight and strength to be my own support, my own woman. The lyra was for me a beaming symbol of reclamation, I gained the sense of self that I had lacked and sought for many years.
I finally stopped being stationary. I continued to move, in my job, my home, my social life and in the lyra; spin spin spinning.
My brother has always called me superwoman, but I haven’t felt like one until now. Not just because of the muscles that I am earning, although it is absolutely incredible to see my body change and feel physically strong. I feel worthy because I am beginning to find the capability in myself in the many facets of my life that I was shielded from.
I chose the pen name Elphaba because of the Wicked character’s history. Elphaba was a woman created out of an act of sexual abuse and born with green coloured skin. Throughout her adolescence, she struggled to find a sense of self in a world that had already determined her worth on the basis of her appearance. Unfortunately, there are many labels that the world hands out that work to confine us into a space we can’t possibly fit or hope to escape. The world had for me, created an alternate version myself, a woman that is still a part of me but a woman that I have survived. There are people, systems and circumstances that will always work against you. The important thing is to find a space which facilitates your growth without defining it. Rather, it arms you with the strength to live and love outside of it.
I am becoming a superhero because I believe that superheroes are survivors.
They are survivors in a world governed by a patriarchal ideology that sees gender and sexuality confined to unachievable and frankly ridiculous dichotomies. They are survivors of emotional and sexual abuse in a world that refuses to listen and act on our calls to action. They are the superheroes that continue to push against an insurmountable force.
But this can be incredibly tiring for us all, so I would encourage you to heed Newton’s advice- “Every object will remain at rest or in uniform motion unless compelled to change by an external force.” So instead of pushing against it, learn to utilise and change that force. I am slowly learning to use motion. Using my flare to get into the lyra instead of creating strength from the bottom up. I am learning to use different parts of my body and person to pull up, rather than relying on my aching arms. And most importantly, I am learning to use the support and wisdom of the wonderfully gorgeous community that surrounds me at Sky Sirens.
This is my superpower.
While there is a long road of recovery in regaining strength and cancelling out fear, I have learnt to push myself even when I’m not sure I am capable. I think that’s what a modern superhero is. I am a ‘Fake it till you make it Wonder Woman’ with long ass, protective heels, and fake eyelashes at the helm. Adornments that are transformative in finding super-strength. While I am fearful of the high hoop, I take on the hype from the instructors at Sky Sirens and the courageous demon inside of me that won’t be made to feel small again.
If I have learnt anything, it’s to give myself permission to be. Just be. And I would encourage anyone to do the same and when you find that you’re unable to, if you feel confined and heavy and lost, seek support. Find your shining lyra in the people who will move mountains to nurture you.
The power of a community that doesn’t seek to define or confine fuels super strength. I have found my superpowers nestled in the colourful interiors of the studio. I am a Superhero and so are you. A survivor, a warrior, an activist, a performer, and a sexy beast with a strong sense of empathy.