Okay. Iâm ready to real talk Black Widow. I donât want to but as an activist thereâs an obligation I have to share and educate. I nerd to forget but I suppose it shows the power of this movie if it brings something real into the light.
*Spoiler Warning. Trigger warning for everything.*
There are some things I want to say that could potentially spoil aspect of the Black Widow film. I also would advise you to skip this post if you have a darker past, if you arenât interested in getting serious, or wish to skim by, Iâm sincerely not judging! I come on here to avoid the universe as well. You do you, I totally still love you if you donât read this and want to move onto something nerdy or more fun. This isnât the post for you.
Itâs taken me a while to process and organize my thoughts. Skip if you donât want to hear deep, raw stories.
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Okay. Nerd review first.
The level of girl power and any and all glass ceilings⊠There is SO much left to do. So much that needs to still be addressed. But seeing 3 women run this show: Yelena, Natasha, and Melina was an absolute joy to observe. This isnât the end of some hard waged war, itâs the beginning and I beg you; Disney/Marvel. Please give us more of this? Itâs so important for young girls to see other girls kicking butt and winning. Quick summary of nerd feelings; Losing Nat still burns. Yelena is a boss.
OkayâŠReal talk.
I have to get a little deeper here now. My personal story absolutely played into how I felt about this film and I wish I saw some trigger warnings about the material covered. Do I know Black Windowâs story? Yes. In and out. I can read it, I can write my FF on it. However. Little to no one knows my story and so absolutely no one is to blame for not warning me. I was not expecting to come out this shook.
Iâm sharing this because itâs happening now, today. In the real world. I doubt the film makers had this mind over other social issues, but after feeling like itâs irrelevant, that my pain is somehow less than, Iâm realizing through my activism itâs not.
I grew up in a cult where women are not relevant. You matter up to a point. You are useful, to a point. If youâre giving 24/7, youâre not giving enough. If youâre not smiling as youâre doing cult stuff, youâre complacent. In addition to why Iâm about to share, my house growing up was not a safe space which is a story for another time. So itâs a stackâŠthis janga-ish game that eventually just comes crashing down.
My trigger started moments after the film started the handing over of the kids. When Alexei chooses the job over the welfare of the girls. Alexei put his two âdaughtersâ in danger to save âfaceâ. To put the job ahead of two childrenâŠit hit home. In the group Iâm from, fathers, mothers, grandparents, siblings will absolutely choose the group over blood. You are nothing and you mean nothing if you âdefectâ. If you break a rule. If you complain. If you say ânoâ. If you put in a bad review for a leader, if you have anything bad at all to say about the organization as a whole. You can confide something deep in someone you trust and it absolutely will come back to hurt you.
The title song shook me completely. This collage of video and images of brainwashing, treating these girls like absolute objects is disgusting in itself. But when youâre raised in this other world, thereâs a level of brainwashing that is absolutely unmatched. Videos, books, quizzes, 12 hour lectures, weekly meetings.
People are unified to the point where you lose your own identity. Thereâs a language- a literally language- words you start to misuse. Verbiage only people in the cult use. Kids of any age will watch any rated film. Frequently the themes are about obedience and or cooperation and the consequences if you do not cooperate/obey. Death is a such a common theme that either you become petrified of your own shadow, petrified of breathing wrong, or turn completely numb. In sharing these videos, the goal is to instill this fear that you will never be enough. That you will die- turn into a charred hot dog of a figure if you do not obey 8 white men - the leaders, in New York. That your friends, classmates, neighbors, family will die if they donât believe what you do. That youâre held accountable if you canât bring them to your side.
The song for the credits hit me. I cannot listen to it. I have no idea what it was about.
When I watched the film, I couldnât focus at this point at gosh barely 15 minutes in. I had already checked out. I heard keywords. âEntertainers,â âI feel stupid and contagiousâŠâ
In my world, I did not matter. What mattered was, what was presented to the public. To your group. Meeting some checklist of this perfect family at any cost. Youâre not an individual, youâre a number. Literally. Your records are documented by men in the back room- your actions, your track record. But ultimately? Youâre part of a numeral equation reported to headquarters. And if youâre a woman, you do not have a say in how you look, dress, act or in what you say. You are as the title song says, âŠâEntertainersâ. You smile. You do your job, and you are âhappyâ about it. Your job is to dedicate x amount of hours cleaning the room you gather in, and in recruitment of other membersâŠ
Thereâs a âjobâ in the cult called a âpioneerâ. Okay. No, we might not have been trained assassins. But you are trained to manipulate emotionally. To prey on the weak. You get books, magazines, movies, speeches, lectures- you rarely get a free Saturday. Oh and the job isnât paid. So make sure youâre working (part time because full time secular work isnât acceptable) at a desk job (because college and getting an education is not allowed). Donât make friends with the people who work with you, theyâre out to get you. Back at the club; You answer questions like itâs some schoolastic quiz every week and quote what your reading. Itâs a brainwashing tactic. If you say something enough times, you remember it. You start to believe it. You spend hours reading these things, training⊠Your job is to target people who have lost- and have lost a lot because theyâre vulnerable. You learn to go to cemeteries, and literally stalk people who are grieving. Like Val. If you can catch someone when theyâre weak, senses are dulled. Theyâre desperate. And you bait them with this false promise. This idea that all THEY have to do is change all that they are, join you, and theyâll see their dead loved ones again. That they are doomed if they donât change. Most pioneers draft 2-4 people per lifetime. If youâre a great saleswoman, you can draft more into this horrific world. And I regret the hours I spent lying, torturing people. For some cult that doesnât give two cents about me.
I 100% believed of I didnât convince my classmates, neighbors, to join my side they would either turn me in or they would be killed by a divine being. From 2 years old I was supposedly handing out pamphlets. The doom is not a quick painless death, no. You have visuals. You have men getting up to talk in detail about what your âfriendsâ will look like as corpses. Visually descriptive to the point where I still feel a bit numb to it all. That you will have to bury their bodies after the whole divine destruction. That you will have to âclean upâ the earth. You are numb- convinced- bullied to the point where you believe this is true.
If youâre hurt as MANY WOMEN AND CHILDREN ARE, and you donât have two people to testify and say they saw it- it never happened. Abuse is the norm. And if you speak up about it? Youâre called a liar. Your friends cut you off. They think youâll die along with everyone else if you put in a âbad reviewâ or leave. Youâre bullied into submission and taught from a young age that you are not in control of your own decisions. You relinquish yourself under the pretense that the men you have such reverence toward are under some divine beingâs control.
Your parents hurting you is acceptable. And donât you dare speak against your father if heâs deeply involved. Donât even think about approaching if heâs on a phone call. If youâre hit you take it- because you âdeservedâ it. And you smile. You shove that pain deep down. You hide the bruise, the cut lip, the depression, the bottles of pills youâre swallowing the whateverâŠ.Youâre screwed if you faint, throw up, pass out, because youâve missed a meeting. You better be dying for that to happenâŠ
The idea that is portrayed in the movie (IMO) is that you can forgive family who hurts you. I see people forgiving Alexei and whatâs her name. Look- thatâs great. Itâs a fun film. Alexei is funny. Hereâs what I saw; itâs a toxic man- nay- father who canât accept responsibility. He takes pride in what the girls have become- monsters. Not in who they are at their core. He has no idea who they are. And the mom has this photo albumâŠIâm tearing up. She remembers this a certain way, a wishful thought. Iâve confronted my own mother about our past and had an album thrown at me, âWe were happy. You were happy.â The fact is I was told the smile. Youâre forcing this perception that everything was normal. That itâs okay to go back. (Iâm not taking away Yelenaâs view that everything was real to her, thatâs fine for the sake of the story, and sweet. The moment between her and Alexei..fine. Milena turns and takes their side at the end, great.) The problem with how I saw this, is thatâs not how the real world works. I donât owe my parents forgiveness when I didnât mean shit to them. When people leave the cult theyâre cut off. Treated like theyâre dead. I didnât find these moments cute, I found them horrific. Hugging me, saying heâs proud of me is the toxic sh** my father would pull. Ignoring the holes in the wall, in my skull, the phony impression he gives to the rest of the group. Hugging meâŠafter sweeping everything he did not only to me, but countless others under the rug because the cultâŠbecause 8 men in NY will protect him. Legally. Or otherwise.
I donât need to forgive my parents. If youâve been mistreated, you donât owe anyone anything. They can âtryâ to do the right thing, that doesnât somehow block out years of mistreatment. Years of trauma. Sheetrock only patches the surface of the broken walls. Wounds heal but some scars stay with you forever. Metaphorically or otherwise.
âEntertainersâ was a trigger word because if youâre high enough in the ranking system youâre asked to âtestifyâ or share a story. Itâs in front of a couple thousand. Itâs an âhonorâ. What it really is, is a three ring circus. You will only see women on the sidelines reading from the cards while only men stand at the main podium. Theyâre reading what they have told them to say. Stories are manipulated, cut, changed to fit a narrative that better suits the group of a couple thousand members.
Dreykov. I hate this. But I have to go there. Iâm neck deep already, might as well. I think the worst part of all of it is that you canât touch the person who made you this way. Those 6-7-8 leaders are untouchable. It doesnât matter what you try. What legal entities, ex groups have tried. Thereâs a term for us and we are considered âmentally diseased.â Members are told to avoid us. And in case you were curious, no, they canât just break their nose on a table to be free- if only it were that simple. Gosh that got me. I would cut a limb, split my skull open, if it meant I could just cut a chord. It takes years of therapy and I still have nightmares. Urges to just, go. Iâm OKAY. But most escapees are not. If you manage to escape with your life and donât end it because the pressure, guilt, abuse that comes with leaving is too much. (This is sadly the fate of MANY LBGTQ+ members.)
The only hope is either the group eventually runs out of money or theyâre taken down legally. Both of which are impossible since many older members will leave all they have to the group rather than to their family. Itâs a complex billion dollar publishing company that plays monopoly with peopleâs investments, homes, and lives.
If you speak up, youâre the liar. So you cannot free your friends, who have turned on you, already cut you off, and discarded you the day you walked out and didnât come back.
Watching Natasha, and Yelena free their sisters made me think of every woman who is stuck in this cult. For every woman, child, currently being sexually/physically abused and canât say sh** because they literally believe god will kill them. If I say anything to them, they block me. If I expose whatâs happening they will lie in court. Thatâs what is happening. And itâs not in the news, itâs not talked about. Because you canât. Youâre forced into silence. Thereâs a block. A literal legal force field that you cannot penetrate. They have their own lawyers. You canât break into it. Youâll lose every, single, legal battle you try to fight.
Was this a decent movie? Yes. Was I expecting to share this days after release, no. Iâve been forced into silence for so long, told that people have it far worse and that I shouldnât talk about it. But just today I saw a grown ass couple in an escapee group, talking about how one trigger word sent them into a depressive spiral. Wondering if some god damn lightening will come out of the sky and knock them dead. And we frickin struggle in silence. People will just shrug and go âoh it canât be that bad,â while my gay best friend canât catch an effing break. While someone else suffers at home because god wants it that way. Someone else will bury their kid today, maybe not even hold a funeral for them if they were âmentally diseased.â
For people like that couple I met today, like me, if you donât just see a fun film but a darker past or maybe itâs brought up some memories for you, Iâd honestly love to chat!!! Message me! I feel like for as painful as this is to hash out not too many people know about what goes on behind a group of smiling, well dressed woman who come knocking on your door. âItâs just a religion.â
I guess I didnât realizeâŠthe criminal aspect of what happened to me. Youâre so ingrained to keep quiet. To smile. To ignore, to suppress. I can smile, joke laugh, but visualizingâŠinadvertently seeing this mirror was so unbelievably uncomfortable. I would always rather help someone else because it takes me out of my head. Live in a bubble where I can call my trauma a âfantasyâ. Whatâs real is when someone like me has a bad day? Lol! Look, my husband literally checks his phone to make sure a conversation never touches a couple hundred trigger words that will absolutely send me into the closet with a gallon of ice cream or a bottle of whiskey. I canât imagine what someone else, what some other traumatized individual goes through. (Maybe thatâs why the Bucky stuff makes me all angry She-Hulk too..)
Look, talking people ex members of this group, out of suicide is a daily endeavor to the point where itâs borderline on autopilot. But having this, I suppose, brilliant, piece of cinema turn the camera around left me raw and writhing and angry. Not for me, but for everyone else still stuck. With every year you spend in that cult, add ten more to therapy.
If you feel like me at all, youâre not alone. Not anymore. We were raised to feel alone in the world. That the universe is somehow out to get us and thatâs simply not true. You donât need the people who raised you if they were absolute shit bags. And you DO NOT have to forgive them for keeping you in that environment. Family isnât family if theyâve hurt you. You owe them nothing. It is healthy to feel your feelings (and you and your feelings are valid. )
Anyways! I hope to be able to talk about more fun Marvel topics soon. But this felt important so thanks for listening. Iâm really not hating guys, this is justâŠitâs heavy. And I beg you to do your research into cults and to help out where you can.
Love and light,
-M














