Being & Sistering in a Motherless World | by Jaclyn Lanae
Pythias & Tiamats | A ferocious and tenacious little spark
I must have re-written the start of this essay at least eleven times. “April was the hardest month…”, “2026 has been the hardest…”, “the last two years have been the worst…” “since 2016 we’ve struggled…”
The bad news comes in waves, like it always has, but lately it seems the waters are shifting. Rather than just coming, the waves are building. Each bigger and wider and more damaging than the last. Each spawned from deeper beneath the surface, from a place in the ocean that is darker and scarier than we had believed possible. Battered by the assault of patriarchy and broken men, we cling desperately to the ever-eroding shoreline and what little firm footing we might have, fully aware that the storm may pass, but the ocean will not suddenly cease to exist.
This is a Motherless world, one in which there is no responsibility or accountability to the mother — the earth, the goddess, or the woman — and unaware, disconnected men run about taking whatever they want. One in which women are demonized and oppressed, and men are told they have no real responsibility — after all, you can’t control the ocean.
