How I Morphed into A Mythological Monster

How I Morphed into A Mythological Monster

This goes out to all of the weirdos, the eccentrics, the loners, the odd ducks, the misfits, the bullied, the abused, the black sheep, the ones who were always picked last, the people who’ve been downtrodden and felt the strain of everyday life, the ones who had to work their asses off to get ahead only to feel they’ve almost gone nowhere, and most of all, the ones who in a world full of weirdos, still feel very alone.

You are my people. You are my tribe. My symbol is your symbol.

I’ve had to think long and hard about how I was going to write this. I’m not one to be this personal with the world, and I’m not always good at expressing myself in a way that I feel is necessarily valuable to others, but in this case, I’ve chosen to take a chance, be vulnerable and put myself out there in hopes that there will be a few of you who get it.

Let’s start this with a history lesson…

The Story of Medusa:

A common interpretation of the Medusa symbol is like that of the evil eye which is a supernatural symbol to ward off evil. Having a head of snakes, she literally petrifies her invaders by turning them to stone.

Another version is one most of us are very familiar with through movies like the 1981 feature film Clash of the Titans; Medusa’s fate was executed by the Greek hero Perseus using Athena’s shield to avoid her hideous gaze while beheading her using an adamantine sword.

However, there’s far more to the story.  

Medusa started as a beautiful priestess in Athena’s temple. With this responsibility came a vow of chastity and the symbolism of purity. Poseidon, the god of the sea, takes notice of Medusa’s beauty and seduces her in Athena’s temple (some sources indicate she was actually raped by Poseidon). While Poseidon is never punished for his crime, Medusa, having broken her vow of chastity, is subjected to Athena’s jealousy and wrath. Athena punishes her by never allowing her to marry, banishes her from society, and forces her to live on a deserted island where she is condemned to a head full of snakes and an appearance so hideous it turned people who looked upon her to stone. 

A sad, tragic, and lonely existence if there ever was one.

The Medusa Symbol in Present-day Culture:

In short, the Medusa symbol has been part of the #MeToo movement which brings awareness and advocacy for victims of rape, sexual abuse, and sexual harassment. The #MeToo phrase was originally used by sexual assault survivor and activist, Tarana Burke. The #MeToo movement adopted the Medusa by reinterpreting the myth as symbolism for victim-blaming suffered by rape and sexual abuse survivors, and a statue was erected “Medusa with the Head of Perseus” by Italian Argentinian artist Luciano Garbati who wanted to make up for Medusa’s unjust characterization as the villain of the story by portraying her as victorious over Perseus. A temporary display of a bronze cast version is displayed in Collect Pond Park in Lower Manhattan, New York.

My Medusa Story:

As a survivor of sexual abuse and rape myself, I can relate and empathize with the #MeToo movement. I applaud them for their efforts in bringing awareness and advocacy to victims of abuse. That being said, and with no ulterior motive or attempt to diminish their honorable work, or anyone else’s for that matter, I would just like to add my story to the powerful symbolism of the Medusa.

I was born in the 1970’s. Times were different growing up in the 70’s and 80’s. Unlike today, bullying wasn’t a subject in most households, and it sure didn’t have the awareness it has now garnered in society, but many kids were still victims of it. There were no moms against bullying, stop or any other anti-bullying campaigns. In those days, kids were expected to fight back, deal with it, suck it up, and shove down their feelings. There wasn’t much coddling for the kids of my generation. Well, I’ll say, not in my neighborhood anyway.

The housing project I lived in was littered with annoying and intimidating kids frequently angling for superiority over each other, to what I suppose was a defense mechanism to avoid being bullied themselves. Or maybe this was just their way of directing attention away from their own broke, miserable lives, by making fun of someone even less fortunate than themselves. At any rate, most likely something they learned from their parents, who in turn suffered a similar upbringing.

It was a dysfunctional cesspool, an oppressed ecosystem, and a continuous rollercoaster of mental despair. Every day was the survival of the fittest that felt like something relatable to William Golding’s 1954 novel, Lord of the Flies.

Growing up here was hard for anyone, but at the time, I felt it to be especially difficult for me.

Being considered “the poor kid” in an already poor neighborhood, I was poked fun at relentlessly. I had to endure the constant agonizing sounds of the Batman theme song rattling from their sadistic mouths for the pink, rust-bucket ‘57 Chevy that my parents drove which the neighborhood kids coined “The Batmobile”. So rusted in fact, that my parents had to put a wood plank on the floorboard so our feet wouldn’t fall through to the ground below.

And this doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface.

I received constant insults about my clothing, my appearance, and my awkward and somewhat dorky sense of humor. To say, I didn’t fit in was an understatement.

One day, at school in front of roughly 50 of my peers, I was awarded the name “Medusa”. I suppose because both of our names start with an M, but then again, that doesn’t explain why I was also called “Regan” from The Exorcist. Maybe that was because I was born in the 1970’s close to the time when the movie was released. Who knows?

The kids would place their arms over their faces to hide their eyes and yell, “Noooo, I’m turning to stone, I’m turning to stone!”

And there it was…

Just like that, and in only an instant, with their daunting jeers, I was rendered to be the most hideous beast the kids could think of. Less than decent, scum of the earth, vile, sub-human… Not human at all.

I was the ugliest creature they could think of… I was, Medusa.

Hearing their snickering taunts and provocations made me want to bloody their noses and blacken their eyes. I wanted to kick the shit out of every last one of them. But it would have been a worthless pursuit as I would have had to fight everyone in school.

While all of this seems incredibly petty and irrelevant nearly 40 years later, these events do take their toll on one’s life and self-esteem. Like many, I’ve suffered my share of setbacks, struggles, criticisms, and prejudices, but none nearly as stagnating as my own inner dialogue, much of which is rooted in the events I’ve just detailed, and countless others.  

Growing up, and all throughout my life, I have often felt like I was surrounded by snakes. Metaphorically speaking, of course, I’m talking about the merciless children from my old neighborhood, and every other abusive, ruthless, nay-saying, and fault-finding person I have encountered throughout my life. Many of these people have been some of my own narcissistic family members and in-laws. They were people I looked up to. Some of these people were once my friends, and at one time, I valued their opinions and sought their validation.

It was a painful endeavor, indeed, but these types of people are everywhere, and the message I have constantly had to remind myself is…

The journey of life is overcoming.

That’s something I’ve had to learn for myself on my journey in life.

Medusa never got her chance to overcome her circumstances, as she was forsaken by the mythological gods of her story. But that’s not my story…

Overcoming is not easy, but it’s what separates the weak from the warriors, the victims from the survivors, the critics from the champions, and the doers from the do-nothings.

I’ve had a lot to experience and learn in life, but most of all, I’ve had to learn to overcome. But hey...

The journey of life is overcoming.

Overcoming is not about thinking you are better than other people, competing and comparing yourself with others, seeking validation from others through fake popularity and pretentiousness, or believing somehow you are more deserving than others. It’s not about entitlement. It’s not about angling for superiority. It’s not about ego.

Overcoming is believing you and everyone else who’s willing to put in the work deserves a chance at winning. It’s about holding yourself to a higher standard. It’s about accepting constructive criticism from people whose intentions truly are to see you succeed and grow, and disregarding criticism from ill-intentioned and diabolical nay-sayers. It’s about conducting yourself and your life with integrity. It’s about building your self-esteem through your own earned accomplishments. It’s about creating the best version of yourself and inspiring others to do the same.

We are all human, and these things take time and work. Overcoming and changing for the better takes sacrifice and humility, but i'll say it again…

The journey of life is overcoming.

I’ve created this original Medusa acrylic painting on canvas and the accompanying digital artwork in my own likeness, to celebrate not only how far I’ve come in life, but how much I’ve overcome. The tangled venomous snakes surrounding my head represent the challenges I’ve endured and overcome, and how they no longer control me, but I now control them.

I hope my Medusa art and this sincere message bring you inspiration and motivation to overcome the challenges you are facing now in your own life or may be faced with in the future, and I hope you always continue to remind yourself...

The journey of life is overcoming.

All The Best,

Margeaux Wex ❤️

Thank you for stopping by. 😊 Be sure to share with your friends and leave me a comment below. I love hearing from my readers.



  • Russell wendes

    This is one of the most heart felt things I’ve read for a long time. Totally inspirational and thought provoking. I defy anyone to not relate to something in these words. Life can be cruel and people can be cruel, but coming through the horrible moments truly makes us stronger. Amazing words

Leave a comment

Please note, comments must be approved before they are published