Dark Phoenix
(This is going to be quite unpleasant, and very brutal - especially upon my own self. Then again, my life, how much less my blog, has never been all lollipops and roses and angels and sunshine. Exercise caution, brace yourself for spoilers, and forgive me in advance.)
Saw X-Men 3: The Final Stand the other night, my first Hollywood movie in a theater since November 2004, believe it or not. But I was thoroughly entertained - I'd forgotten that, after a hard day's work, there's nothing quite like suspending your disbelief and escaping into the cinematic world, preferably one inhabited by superheroes/mutants. I went along for the rollercoaster ride, more ready to dismiss the film after it had served its diversionary purpose, unlike Miles who enjoyed both its screenplay and philosophy, or David who got sleepy halfway through.
And then, driving to work this morning, I had a breakthrough. A monumental one, that took the entire day to process and which only firmed up just as I got home after spending the evening at the Center.
I'm Jean Grey.
Phoenix/Dark Phoenix, to be more precise, with her dual personality of good/evil, angelic sweetheart/rabid shockwave- spewing madwoman. For those who didn't see the last film, Jean Grey drowned in the process of saving the other mutants, presumably to resurrect again as Phoenix in the third installment. And she did, of course - a scarier, crazier, more powerful mutation of the original.
I'm no comic book geek, but according to my factoid nerd research, and as revealed in the film, Jean Grey is/was a telepath with telekinetic powers ("Class 5," according to Callisto, more powerful than Magneto, and as the movie shows us, Professor Xavier and most of the mutant gene pool...). Due to the immensity of Jean's powers, Professor X put psychic blocks around her mind, for the avowed purpose that it was for her own good, although it would prove to be his own undoing (if you haven't seen the film, stop reading now!). On the other hand, Magneto, X's contemporary and alter ego, longed for the full release of Jean's unprecedented powers, as a means of course to achieve his own megalomaniacal ends. Bottom line was that both men assumed control over her. But anyway, after a few decades of living in this scenario, enough was enough. She'd been held back from her real self too long (eventually developing a dual personality that was wild, unpredictable, and very ugly hehe) and boy, would there be hell to pay, especially when it came to the people who tried to suppress/manipulate her true nature.
And that's where I relate to Jean Grey, on a level so intensely familiar that I'm surprised myself. Control. Suppression. Refusal to acknowledge strengths, gifts, desires, direction. Other people's ambitions and dreams supplanting one's own. As I was thinking about it this morning as I drove along EDSA, I raged (like I did the day before - as some friends may already know - but without endangering pedestrians!) the way Jean Grey/Dark Phoenix raged, painfully, intensely, cathartically.
I raged mostly at all the people entrusted with my upbringing, who told me or made me feel that I would never be considered "accomplished" enough if I did not get the highest grades or pursue medicine or law and distinguish myself in these fields; because otherwise, my gift of intellect would "go to waste." Those who refused to support anything remotely connected with my creative inclinations, instead trapping me on a career path that they themselves should have taken, and "pooh-pooh-ing" my own choices: "Mass Comm lang 'yan! Anong mapapapala mo?" "Alalay ka lang ni Sharon Cuneta!" "Malakas talaga ang loob mo (magsulat/kumanta/sumali sa debate team) ano?" "1.78? Hindi ka umabot sa cum laude!" I am angry because, had it not been for God's grace and my strong sense of self, the real me, with all my God-given gifts and dreams, would have withered away and died in unhappy obscurity. I'm angry because I had to pursue all my passions on my own and somewhat clandestinely, until I eventually got good enough to bring them all to light and, ironically, "make them proud" (in the public eye, most especially) through the very things I was discouraged from doing. I know that they love me and only want the best for me, and perhaps they believed that all they did was for my best interests, but they almost - unknowingly - killed the real ME. But they didn't. And I release, after belatedly acknowledging all those years it had been bottled up, that anger now. It will not control me, just like they no longer control me.
I also raged at the people I entrusted with my growth and development, and my deepest secrets and emotions, who I looked to for guidance and support and pastoring but who also wanted to control, mold, and make me into someone I was not meant to be. Who wanted me to behave in a way that was way off who I really am; who wanted me to conform to a certain standard that did not become me; who wanted me to be exactly like they were. Who said, "Stick with me, and you'll go places!" took me along and almost dragged me to hell. Who, attempting to exercise total control, judged me to be "out of control" when I was called to truly set out into the deep, and who actually prohibited me from following my calling. Who insisted that their way was THE way, and no other way. Who excluded, who judged, without practicing the love they preached. Again, they could have killed the ME that God meant to be, but by His grace, their control was cast off me. And I release that anger I have for all these people now; it will not control me, just as these people no longer control me.
Finally, I raged at the people I once chose to love and trust. Who I believed in all good faith to be true and special and beloved, but who took control nonetheless, forcing me, misdirecting me, weighing me down, until I was starting to become not even someone but something I was not, I am not, and I will never ever be. Who made me bend over backward until there was no more bending, without moving a muscle themselves in my direction; who made me hate what I was turning into for their sake. Who kept me from soaring to my full potential. At bottom, just like the others I just mentioned, who wanted to take control over me - my time, my convictions, my emotions, my being. I release that anger I have for these people; it will not control me. And these people never will.
I told you this was going to be ugly. I do not claim to be perfect: these are my demons - mostly of my own devices - that I attempt to capture daily and lay at the feet of my God for slaying. I am probably as much a control freak as Jean Grey, and I suppose have been pushed beyond my limits by the people who've been controlling my life over the years. I've virtually "obliterated" to smithereens most of the Professor X's and Magnetos who've tried to run my life for me, except those whose love enables me to forgive as they likewise forgive me. But I acknowledge this: I have surrendered, and continue to surrender, absolute control over my angry little existence to the One who surrendered Himself for my everlasting freedom. He is the only one I will totally submit to; He knows that I will always - by His grace - choose Him over any community or commitment or cause. And, by His grace, so far I always have.
"Hear me, X-Men! No longer am I the woman you knew! I am fire! And life incarnate! Now and forever I am Phoenix!" Indeed, I am born and live again, only in Him. He allows my Phoenix to soar, to rise above the darkess and into His light, where all the anger and resentment will burn away in the blazing fires of His love.
posted by Honey Oliveros at 10:14 PM 
