La vie poem!

Great news:

Three of my students went to a poetry slam...we practiced...they competed...and two of them took 1st and 2nd place - beating out all the other kids from all the other high schools!!!

I am so proud!! :D

...

The ex is still calling. STILL.

Just when I start to feel like I can function: another message lies waiting on the machine.

How am I supposed to get better if it doesn't ever stop? How am I supposed to heal?

And why do I feel guilty and like a bad person for needing space?


And why do I want to cry when I get email messages like this - even though I know it's "for the best":

"you know what, i get it-im through with this."

through with me, he means...like I'm not worth the breath it takes to write the email....

And why do I even care? STILL? When I'm the one who initiated it?

I should be rejoicing, right?....then why does my heart hurt? Why does it still matter?

And as I care, why do I still feel afraid?


...and why am I writing about it here?

All things new

Things have been pretty rough, lately. There have been some complicaitons with the ex: comlications that have made it rather difficult for me to dis-entangle myself. I am trying with a desperate fervancy to maintain my sense of separation. I need time and space to heal from all of this: a need that is hard to meet when the cause of that need persists in trying to contact me and reconnect. I worry for him; I pray for him; I wish I could mend the pain and frustration he's going through - but I can't. I'm not a savior: for myself or anyone else. God is the only one who can bring me any healing in this mess: I'm praying that God will be able to do the same for all other parties involved.

I spent Easter Sunday at Northland listening to Pastor Joel Hunter preach. Fantastic sermon. In the wake of everything that's happened, things have been rather hard lately. I am still reeling from the death of a dream; I am heartbroken because I know my former fiance is hurting - as am I. I have found myself struggling to hang on to the truth, to that oh-so-often quoted passage from Jeremiah: "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord. In the face of all I've lost - the love, the dreams, the self-esteem - it has been easy for me to get lost in the mourning.

Pastor Joel's Easter sermon, though, reminded me of a truth I had long forgotten about: after death, ressurection will come. His reminder to the congregation that "we can't get so caught up in what we've lost that we don't see what's right in front of us" was an apt one - one that speaks directly to where I'm at right now. He referenced Mary at the tomb and her inability to recognize Jesus when he spoke to her: she was so busy being distruaght that the failed to see that Jesus - the one she was longing for - was standing right in front of her.

When Pastor Joel talked about how Jesus spoke to Mary at the tomb, I could mentally see God asking me the same question: "Megan, why are you weeping?" God - my hope, my life, my validation, my love - was there the whole time: I was just so busy grieving that I missed him. He's been right here with me - all I had to do was be willing to actually look for him instead of drowning him out and looking away.

Especially in light of my recent grad school failure, I have been trying to re-evaluate where I am headed. I tried to plan out my life my way: everything fell apart. I am now trying to find the courage to surrender to whatever it is God might have in store for me. Luckily, part of me is irrepressibly excited about the future: new options, new choices, an endless parade of possibilities stretched out before me that I never had before (or, rather, never opened myself up to before). The endless sense of entrapment I've been buried under for the past several months is giving way to a delicious feeling of freedom.

Though it hurts my pride and my heart, maybe there is a reason I didn't get into grad school for Creative Writing. Maybe it was the wrong season or the wrong place. Maybe I was meant to do something else entirely - and my writing was meant to merely be a side enjoyment of mine. I am sincerely trying to allow my old tendencies - the fear of failure, the need to "prove" myself in the "real" world, etc - to stay nailed to the cross. Amibition and desire aren't bad: but chasing them at the exclusion of everything else most certainly falls into that category. It was my fear of letting go of my dreams, my desires, my wants, that allowed me to end up so heartbroken and far from both God and hope in the first place. I've tried it my way and experienced the pain that brings.

My gut-feeling is that - since there's nothing left to lose, no other dream to shatter, no other plan to fall apart -now is the time for me to let go of my fears and my pride and do things God's way. There is no better time for me to fully commit, to fully let God have control of my life. I need to let go of the false fear that somehow, by letting God lead, I will end up miserable, unfulfilled, and unhappy: that's what happened when I was in control. The worst I could imagine is what occurred when God was out of my life: not in it. I only pray I can be granted the strength to stand in the truth and recognize that. This particular issue is one that, as far as my life is concerned, doesn't like to stay dead; instead of being nailed down, it likes to ressurect itself like a ravenous zombie and, a la Resident Evil, tries to eat me whole.

I have no interest in being zombie food.

I am still hurting; I am still working through my sorrow. Some of the anger and heartache I've been harboring run deep, and I am struggling to give them over to God. Though it was not easy to hear, Pastor Joel's sermon provided me with a window of hope that I haven't dared to look out of in a long time. I'm so grateful for the reminder that, though I may be reeling from the death of my dreams right now, a ressurection will come. It may not be the way I expected it; it might not be exactly what I planned, but I am trusting that it will be what God has planned from the beginning and - if I will simply open my eyes to what God places in my life - I can eventually experience the same joy that Mary found that first Easter morning.

There's hope for Paul yet...

So I’ve been cruising this new blog I’ve found - which is absolutely phenomenal – and I was reading an article one of the bloggers posted on 1 Timothy 2:9-15. Specifically, they addressed the cultural and historical forces at play during the time this epistle was written, and – subsequently – how our lack of knowledge on these issues might aid in an unintentional misinterpretation of these verses.

Specifically, this blogger addressed Paul’s famous encounter with Artemis and the Ephesians.

“In like manner also, that the women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with propriety and moderation, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or costly clothing, but, which is proper for women professing godliness, with good works. Let a woman learn in silence with all submission. And I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man, but to be in silence. For Adam was formed first, then Eve. And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived, fell into transgression. Nevertheless she will be saved in childbearing if they continue in faith, love, and holiness, with self-control.” 1 Timothy 2:9-15.

Many an independent, freedom-loving woman has had significant problems with these verses, and rightfully so: if taken on a literal and surface level, they seem both demeaning and unjust. What happened to “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for we are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28), right?

This blogger, beautiaful, asserts that these verses are geared specifically to the women at the Church in Ephesus (which was suffering from the injection of neighboring religions and the threat of doctrinal blending). The blogger asserted the following:

1) Verse 9, the verse which extols women to “dress modestly” without “braided hair, gold, or pearls” is not an outcry against beauty, but against pagan beauty. Apparently, these adornments were trademarks of the women who worked Artemis’s temple and, in order to avoid spiritual confusion, Paul didn’t want them adorning another faith’s spiritual robes. (Just like we wouldn’t want a Muslim wearing a Yamika or a rabbi wearing a priest’s robes).

2) The blogger also suggests that the word “silence” is often misinterpreted from its meaning in the original Greek, which is “peacefulness” or “peaceable-ness” – especially the sort of peacefulness found in a learning/educational environment. In other words, Paul was first arguing for these women to receive an education (what a novel concept) and that, because they were being misled by the heretical teachings of the Artemis cult, they should not be teaching these heresies to the Christian body. They had to submit to the true teachings of Christ – as all Christians do.

3) The blogger also contends that the word “authority” from the Greek word “authentin” is also translated in a misleading manner in many modern texts. “Authentin” can apparently also be translated as a violent sort of dominance – the sort associated with sexual abuse, crime, or unchecked power. Here, Paul is arguing that women should not “dominate” or “abuse” men – like those who would adhere to an Amazonian tradition would encourage women to do.

4) The “Adam and Eve” order speech is an attempt to counteract the Gnostic argument that Eve became “enlightened” when she took the forbidden fruit: instead of merely racked with sin. The Gnostics, apparently, glorified Eve’s role in the Fall of Eden, trying to paint as something beautiful and admirable instead of heartbreaking. This verse is less about man’s superiority to women and more about a reiteration of the facts and doctrinal clarity.

5) The women will be “saved” through childbearing is a call for women to place their faith in God, not a pagan goddess, to keep them save and alive through the birthing process.

All in all, I found this article to be absolutely smashing. I love the spirit and intelligence of the arguments. However, being an English major - one who heavily focused on myth and folk lore during my college course work, I had a couple of small qualms I’d like to address. Subsequently, I’d like to offer some alternative pov’s.

The blogger of the traditional blog asserts that the people of Ephesus were drawn so intensely to Artemis because of her roles in fertility rituals and childbearing:

"Ephesus was a decadent Asian city, whose focal point was the fertility goddess, Artemis. The Romans called her Diana. Artemis is said to be the twin of Apollo and the daughter of Zeus and Leto. The cult of Artemis was particularly alluring for women because Artemis was believed to protect her female worshippers during and after childbirth. Plus, women were viewed as superior to men, possessing secret divine knowledge. Men were drawn to this cult as well because sex was part of the worship rituals, where men would receive divine knowledge through engaging in sexual rituals with female priestesses" (beautiaful).

*drum roll* Cue the entrance of my quirked eyebrow and questions.

Traditionally, in so far as I have been taught and trained through my college coursework, it is my understanding that Artemis is not the "fertility" goddess that this blogger is depicting her as. In her original incarnation, Artemis is - indeed - the twin of Apollo and the daughter of Zeus, but I think this blogger unintentionally omitted one crucial thing: Artemis was a virgin.

In fact, Artemis was synonymous with virginity and sportsmanship (specifically game hunting, archery, etc). Artemis also later became associated with the moon, cycles, etc (in direct contrast with her brother, Apollo, who is associated with the sun, diurnal reality etc). In her original myth, Artemis begs her father not to get married because she doesn't want to be "dominated" by men. She has no fear of sex or men: she just doesn't want to lose her freedom, so she chooses to abstain. Her priestesses, likewise, would have had the same views: they too would have abstained from fertility rights and would have avoided contact with men.

It was Hera, actually— not Artemis— who was the original goddess of childbirth and fertility. That was her official station as the "queen" of all Greek goddesses. She - and occasionally Demeter - were the ones women offered incense and prayers to in order to ensure a safe birth. Artemis didn’t become associated with childbirth until the Hellenistic era, usurping that role from older, more ancient Greek goddesses.

In light of this information, I think a slight reinterpretation of this blogger’s reinterpretation is in order. :P

I’d be curious to know where she got her info and what her sources were. In so far as I know, priestesses of Artemis would be anything BUT members of an orgiastic, fertility cult; to do so would be to defy the very nature of their virginal, patron goddess.

So I would like to offer the following potential revisions to this blogger’s assertions:

Assertion 1: Good to go. Love it and it works.
Assertion 2: Also agree. Again, good to go.

Assertion 3: Again, would strongly agree, especially given the prominence of the Amazonian myth. However, I’d like to add a couple of thoughts. The fertility cults that the blogger refers to are most likely either a) cults of Hera/Aphrodite or b) an off-branch of Artemis working outside the established doctrinal practices of the main sect.

Either way, women followers of the Artemis cult most likely prized one value above all others: freedom. Just as their patroness abandoned the affections of men to ensure her personal liberty, so too did these women; they become her chaste priestesses and modeled themselves after her. However, like those who followed the Amazonian line of thinking, there is always potential for liberty to be abused. I think that perhaps the followers of Artemis needed some reassurance that - when they abandoned their faith and their power - that they would not be abused and subjugated by men. Hence Paul’s subsequent charge in 1Timothy 3:1-10:

1 Here is a trustworthy saying: If anyone sets his heart on being an overseer, he desires a noble task. 2 Now the overseer must be above reproach, the husband of but one wife, temperate, self-controlled, respectable, hospitable, able to teach, 3 not given to drunkenness, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, not a lover of money. 4 He must manage his own family well and see that his children obey him with proper respect. 5 (If anyone does not know how to manage his own family, how can he take care of God's church?) 6 He must not be a recent convert, or he may become conceited and fall under the same judgment as the devil. 7 He must also have a good reputation with outsiders, so that he will not fall into disgrace and into the devil's trap.

8 Deacons, likewise, are to be men worthy of respect, sincere, not indulging in much wine, and not pursuing dishonest gain. 9 They must keep hold of the deep truths of the faith with a clear conscience. 10 They must first be tested; and then if there is nothing against them, let them serve as deacons.

Yes, Paul has forbidden the women in this church from teaching at this time due to the heresies they had been taught to believe. Logically then, I think there was a great fear on the part of these women that they would now become victims of abuse, of authentin. I think that, by going over the qualities that a good deacon, a good leader, should possess, Paul does two things:

1) He provides an example for other leaders to follow and emulate
2) By showing these sorts of leaders to be “good” leaders, he lessens the women’s need to fear abuse during the season in their lives where they are asked to peacefully learn: not lead. This would be especially meaningful for the followers of Artemis, who would have potentially lived their lives in fear of male abuse.

I’d even go so far as to suggest that authentin abuse was common practice at Ephesus, which is why more than one sermon is delivered to the Ephesians on this issue:

22 Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

25 Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her 26 to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, 27 and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. 28 In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. 29 After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church— 30 for we are members of his body. 31"For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh." 32 This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. 33 However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband. (Ephesians 5:22-33).

Again, I’d assert that there are multiple purposes to this sermon:
1) Paul challenges both sexes to behave in a Christ-like manner towards one another
2) Paul challenges the spiritually wayward Ephesian women to learn peaceably from their husbands who – since they had been formally trained in the Judeo-Christian tradition – had more insight in matters of traditional doctrine. (Hence Paul’s previous call for women to be educated so that they would not remain ignorant!)
3) Paul also challenges the “spiritually educated” men not to use their knowledge as a license to abuse or mistreat their wives; they are called to help make their wives “clean” again by washing through the Word (God’s; not Artemis’s!), and – by helping her learn the truth she had been denied access to – encourage her to regain a relationship with God that would leave her blameless, pure, and forgiven.

Assertion 4: Again, again: right on the money.

Assertion 5: Yes, I agree, but I’d like to add another thought: yet another reason women joined Artemis’s cult was the desire to abstain from marriage, sex, and the risk of dying through childbirth. Many of these women might have legitimately feared being “forced” into marriage and into bearing children – risking both their way of life and their very lives – by converting to Christianity. I would be curious to know of the original meaning of the word “in” or “through” depending upon your translation, in 1Timothy 2:15:

“Nevertheless she will be saved in childbearing if they continue in faith, love, and holiness, with self-control”.

Perhaps, in addition to challenging women to put their lives in God’s hands, Paul was also reassuring them that they would still their liberty. Maybe being saved “from” childbearing was also being subtly implied so that, if they chose, these women could still remain single and serve God: they did not have to become wives and mothers to fulfill their calling – something that had to be hugely empowering for these women. Furthermore, this idea of Christian singlehood something Paul extols not only for women, but men too! He reiterates this idea to the Corinthians (1 Corinthians 7:32-39):

32 I would like you to be free from concern. An unmarried man is concerned about the Lord's affairs—how he can please the Lord. 33 But a married man is concerned about the affairs of this world—how he can please his wife— 34 and his interests are divided. An unmarried woman or virgin is concerned about the Lord's affairs: Her aim is to be devoted to the Lord in both body and spirit. But a married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world—how she can please her husband. 35 I am saying this for your own good, not to restrict you, but that you may live in a right way in undivided devotion to the Lord.

36 If anyone thinks he is acting improperly toward the virgin he is engaged to, and if she is getting along in years and he feels he ought to marry, he should do as he wants. He is not sinning. They should get married. 37 But the man who has settled the matter in his own mind, who is under no compulsion but has control over his own will, and who has made up his mind not to marry the virgin—this man also does the right thing. 38 So then, he who marries the virgin does right, but he who does not marry her does even better.

39 A woman is bound to her husband as long as he lives. But if her husband dies, she is free to marry anyone she wishes, but he must belong to the Lord. 40 In my judgment, she is happier if she stays as she is—and I think that I too have the Spirit of God.

When looked at from all angles and when examined in light of the cultural and historical elements of this time period, I can happily say: Wow. What a sermon.

I might even be starting to like Paul.

Just a little bit.

Get it, girl!

Just found an awesome new blog:http://christianfeminism.wordpress.com/.
Great stuff. Some really smart ladies run this thing and, though I've only just begun exploring it, but it looks promising. A love an honest debate, and this site offers some great ammo. I love their post on the re-interpretation of 1 Timothy 2:11-12. Check it out! :D

Dum Spiro Spero

So I got the news in the mail just recently: I did not get accepted to the grad school I applied to. So there goes my one would-be consolation prize for getting through all of this...the one thing I tired to do for myself in the midst of it all. *insert aggravated/sad sigh here*

Add to that an ex-fiance who's having difficulty letting go, and life has been somewhat complicated lately.

I find myself going through cycles of emotion: intense sorrow/grief, loneliness/longing, intense relief, and passing joy. I keep rotating through these phases, as if my emotions were the four stages of a clock. And, like clockwork, all four stages appear without fail.

I find, though, little things are getting me through:

Mommy's who come and stay the week with me at my apartment so I won't feel so alone.

Myriads of emails, advice, and comfort from friends

Thursday's at Picasso's Cup painting my "She Who Must Be Obeyed" Mug; I will toture my students with it.

Hymns to chase away the tears at midnight, when no one but God can hear me.

And the promise of lost and broken things getting renewed: friendships, dreams, etc

I'm beginning to suspect that, though I am less than fond of this current place, this is exactly where I need to be. I was always so afraid that if I let go, if I gave God any real control of my life, that I would lose everything.

The great irony here, of course, is that - by not letting God in - I lost everything I "thought" was important anyway: the relationship, the grad school, the dream career. There will be no white dresses, no flowers, no happily ever after's: at least not right away and not the way I pictured them. All of these idols I had in my life have finally fallen through the cracks. I, literally, have nothing else to lose.

What a terrifyingly awful and wonderful thought at the same time.

Right now, I'm just trying to trust and believe that whatever is in store for me will be far better than anything I can imagine.

Granted, my imagination's not exactly hoppin' right now, but you get the idea.

Though the wounds still hurt, though the memories won't fade, in the absence of a fairy tale, in the presence of a shattered dream, I'm hoping, praying, and desperately trying to cling that tiny thread of something I haven't felt for a long while now:

hope.

MVP: Who's #1?

Current Status: far too contemplative for my own good

I’m sitting here in the car on my way back to Florida. My dad has rigged his PDA to allow wireless internet in the car – a pretty cool feat, to say the least. Nevertheless, my mind is far from the ‘net or the beauty of the mountains we are leaving behind.

Instead, my mind is on other things left…other things lost…

I visited his MySpace page the other day. I couldn’t help it. Some masochistic part of me was curious. As expected, all the standard post-break up changes had been made. “Single” now resided where “engaged” used to be. A friend’s face now rested in the #1 person spot – the place where my countenance used to reside.

Just like that, I had been completely erased out of his life (and vice versa). Any evidence of our relationship only existing in one place: our memories. No shared tags, no more “I love you’s” posted on walls…just like that, it was as if we had never even met in the first place.

Good God, break-up’s suck.

Even though I’m the one who initiated it, even though I know it needed to happen, it still hurts. Worse than I ever imagined. And not in the “I got a limb chopped off” kind of way: more like the “my limb is gone; the wounds are scabbing over. But I still feel this dull, throbbing, ache that won’t go away” kind of way.

What really got me was that #1 slot. Countless times, I had looked on that slot with pride and thought “I’m somebody’s number one. I’m somebody’s everything.” As silly and insignificant as a picture on a website may be, it meant something to me. Being that significant to someone was a unique feeling for me, one I’ve always craved. The one thing I’ve always wanted is to be important to someone, to matter, to mean something.

Now, as I stare bleakly at my computer screen, the pessimist in me can’t help but think “Who do you matter to now? You’re not someone’s number one; you’re not an “everything” anymore. You’re not even a “something.” You’re not even there.”

And the sad part is: it’s true. I’m no one’s “number one” anymore. And there’s no changing that. I might be a two, a three or four, but that #1 slot is decidedly gone; there’s no getting it back.

I’m trying to console myself with the knowledge that there is a God who loves me, who believes in me, and would have died on a cross to ransom me even if I was “the only one.”

Such consolations though, seem empty and small without a pair of loving arms to go with them. I guess that's what faith is for.

So for now, I’ll mourn. It is a loss…the death of a dream. I guess this phase in my life is the funeral. I’m just waiting for the pain to dull…to get buried deep enough in the ground for the healing to begin…

Christian Feminism: a pretty paradox

I was surfing my way through blog-land, trying to kill some time, when I stumbled across some old blogs by a friend of mine. Now, don't get me wrong: I love this girl to death. When it comes to political and social views, however, we are die-hard opposites. Two blogs of hers, in particular, got under my skin. Mightily. So, while I have the deepest adoration and respect for this lady-friend of mine, I'd like to take a moment to emerge from my mourning and play devil's (angel's?) advocate.

I'll even toss in a few Bible verses here and there, since some individuals in the "anti-feminist" camp draw their arguments from there.


I think that much of the anger, resentment, and general disdain that is directed towards feminism is largely a bi-product of unintentional ignorance. When something is different, contradictory, or *gasp* revolutionary, it's all too easy to label it as "subversive" or "wrong".

Alas, sterotypes are alive and well. We fear what we do not relate to or understand. Nicola Creegan elaborates on this concept in her article, "Is Christian Feminism Possible?": "Feminism is associated in many people’s minds only with lesbianism and with single women who don’t want children or families" (1).

Le sigh.

Just as we labeled the kid who likes basketball a "jock" or the child who loves to read a "geek," we label women who insist they be treated equals as "feminists". All of these "labels" have derogatory connotations, despite the fact that there is nothing inherently wrong with them. What's more, there's usually a certain arrogant derision on the part of the party that does the labeling. Those who don't like or can't play sports turn "jock" into an insult. Those who don't enjoy or struggle with reading or studying render "geek" a mockery. In the same way, those who don't truly understand what it means to be a feminist sometimes unfairly depict feminism in a two-dimensional fashion.

Which, of course, is precisely what they accuse feminists of doing:

Ex: "They [feminists] stand by the theory that following traditional female roles of caring for the family, having and raising children, and keeping the household clean is a culturally and socially influenced trait."

First of all, by labeling all feminists as "they," it is implied that all feminists adhere to these beliefs, that we all think the same way, and that all these thoughts are negative.

You want talk about feminists depicting "traditional" roles as ridiculous? What does the aforementioned not-so-fruedian slip suggest about how you "traditionally" view us?

As for the allegation itself...

Well...duh.

But who says we're arguing that all of these traits are inherently negative? Perhaps we are merely suggesting that, like anything, "traditional roles" can be put on a pedestal and be unhealthily glorified. Just like any number of things, the roles of "wife" and "mother" can become idols in women's lives, tempting us to draw our identity from our relationships, status, and the things we do - instead of our identities in Christ.

When we focus on these desires to the point of neglecting everything else, when romance and relationships become an obsession, we lose our identity and our purpose. We abandon becoming the beautiful person God created us to be and, instead, try to validate our existence through our romantic status. We tie our hopes, dreams, and self-esteem into another human being - a mere man - instead of our maker.

As a recent survivor of an unhealthy, unbalanced, unequal relationship, I have learned all too well the cost of putting your entire focus and self-worth in another human being. Never again. Significance comes from being who you are: not from a relationship or lack thereof.

Ex: "They [feminists] stand by the theory that anyone who follows those roles does so, not because they WANT to, but because they were "raised to believe that way".They nullify an individual's ability to think for oneself, mitigating a woman's choice to follow that role as one of "brainwashing. Feminity becomes stupid and inferior....However, the "intelligent" women are the ones that "throw off the shackals of slavehood and become liberated", finding fulfillment in being powerful CEO's and VP's. [Feminists have] thrown away everything female about themselves.... their ovaries, their hair...all to be more like MEN."

I find this statement to be particularly offensive. I LIKE being a girl. In no way, shape, or form do I possess any desire to shake off my gender and become a man. I like high-heels, skirts, and pearl necklaces. I love getting dolled up to go out on the town. Flowers still make me giggle. I delight in waltzing into a room, girly as can be, and swiftly showing all the men in there that I'm just as capable as they are. Just because I insist on not being walked upon like a piece of shag carpet does not mean that I am seeking a sex change.

What's more, maybe I don't want to be confined in your box of "traditional femininity". After all, if we are both sinful, fallible human beings, what makes your interpretation of the gospel any more valid than mine? Since when has being ambitious or successful been equated with un-womanliness? That's like saying a husband who "cooks" for his wife is "unmanly". I, quite frankly, find that endearing.

The issue comes back to equality: not "traditional" roles.

Feminism, as defined by Wikipedia, is simply this: "the belief that women should have equal political, social, sexual, intellectual and economic rights to men" ("Feminism"). We're not asking to be better than men. We're not asking to be men. We're simply asking to be treated with the same dignity and respect that men have historically recieved - the respect that all human beings are entitled to possess. Nothing more; nothing less.

"There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for we are all one in Christ Jesus." Galatians 3:28.

For true feminists, unlike "femi-nazis," the real issue at stake is social justice. Justice means each person is treated fairly - regardless of his or her gender. If the husband works out of the home and the wife is a homemaker, there's nothing wrong with that. In fact, it's wonderful! He's meeting the external financial needs; she's meeting the internal domestic needs. If the husband works and the wife sits around and does nothing, however, a true feminist would say "There's a problem here!" We don't want to see men abused any more then we want to see women mistreated.

The problem arises when women are told that this domestic role is all that they are allowed fulfill, when women are treated like servants, like property, like play things - all in the name of adhering to tradition. Some of us want more than what tradition can offer. Some of us are messy. Some of us would rather be outside in a garden.

We are each fearfully and wonderfully made, but we were not all made the same.

I, most likely, will never be content to be a housewife. Not because I don't want to get married, not because I don't want children, but because it is not enough for me. I don't want to be defined by my gender, my romantic relationships, or reproductive abilities alone. No. I want to be defined by my actions, by the good I do in this world, and by the legacy I leave behind. If I define myself solely by my status as wife and mother, what happens when my husband dies or leaves me? What happens when I can't have children? Do I cease to exist? Do I cease to have purpose and meaning?

No. I live. I thrive. I press onward to acheive the goal that has been laid out for me.

Anything less is a denial of who God made me to be.

So I will proudly wear my "This is what a feminist looks like" shirt - along with my stilettos and pencil skirts.

Keeping Busy

If you're confused as to why I need to "keep busy," or are in need of greater clarity, please check previous entry. I don't have the emotional energy to re-hash it here.

Current Status: exhausted, emotional, but trying to heal

Went with my mom to the Biltmore House in Ashville, NC today. It was absolutely beautiful. We spent three hours touring the "house" (here meaning gargantuan piece of architecture that has no business deigning to call itself a "house"), I felt like I was back in England again. I desperately wanted to pitch a tent and live on the grounds. God only knows how long we spent in the flower gardens. My mom has been a huge help to me...I thank God almost incessantly for her and for my family. There's no way I'd be getting through this without them. All of them - escpecially my mother - have been a huge comfort to me. She's even coming to stay with me for a couple of days so I won't have to be totally alone those first nights back...

We took lots of silly pictures at the Biltmore. Mom helped me remember how to laugh and play: even bought me a new teddy bear named Dylan since I'm not exactly comfortable sleeping with the ones my former boy purchased for me...and they were all I had...

Dreaming Big: someday, if I find a man I can keep, I think I'd like to have my honeymoon there. It gives me something to look foward to...something to hope for when I seem to be so decidedly lacking in hope...

I also got my hair cut. I mean, really cut. As in, picture Mandy Moore in "How to Deal" short. Yeah. That's me.

I wanted to feel like I was in control of something...like my body, like my self, was mine again. He-who-shall-not-be-named always wanted me to keep my hair long. And the only reason I ever grew it out was for the wedding, so...hence the hackage. I really like it, though. It'll take some getting used to, but I feel like it's more "me"...little things like that are helping me re-discover the person I lost through all of this.

That and writing. Writing really seems to be cathartic for me right now. It's like I can't process what's happening to me unless I pour it out in print...

Speaking of which....

Once again, I'd like to reiterate a request: Please don't hunt my former boy down. We were both responsible for letting things get the way they were: not just him. I have my share of responsibility in this. So, to those of you who I've trusted with my story: I'm also trusting that you have the maturity and wisdom to let certain things be. Namely, he and I both have a lot of healing to do: please don't jeapordize his road to recovery by creating any additional pain or heartache. My sharing is meant to be a confession of why I'm where I'm at: not a condemntation for those who helped get me there.

At any rate...back to NC....

I've only got one day left here and then we're headed back to Fla. I can't believe Spring Break is already over. I love my kids, but I've no desire to get back to them. In fact, I'm absolutely dreading it. So much happened during this "break" that I didn't really get to rest the way I would have liked. That, and my children are not stupid: they all knew I was engaged. They will also know what a new hair cut and the absence of a ring means. I'm more than a little anxious about all of the nosy, well-intentioned, and highly inappropriate questions they'll be apt to ask me.

I just hope to God none of my flirty, "sexual harassment suit waiting to happen," teenage boys says something stupid. The referrals and detentions they recieve will not just be terrible: they will be legendary. I'm thinking toothbrushes for mops on the tile floors of my classroom.

Bring it, punks. I dare you.

Yes, I'm still broken. Yes, I'm still healing. But I remember a story a friend of mine once told me. She said that I'd developed quite a reputation in the FSC English Dept: "something of a legend." Apparently, my newspaper escapades are still merrily recounted. During one of these tale tellings, one student apparently said "You don't mess with her."

I like that.

I might be messed up...but I know with the love of my friends I won't be forever. It hurts now...but hope and healing will come. You don't mess with me...and you don't mess with us.

Love you all.

Belle out.

Wow. It's been a while...

It's been a little over a year now since I last wrote. Lots of things in my life have changed since then. I feel more than a little lost, especially as of late. I am working, however, to get my feet back on the ground.

Updates:

Found boy. Fell for boy. Loved boy. Got engaged to boy. It didn't work....

So I tried to make it work. Tried to fix it anyway. Staid with boy out of love and fear of the oh-so-awful "I told you so" from former allies-turned-absentees. Hid strife from friends, but staying only hurt us both. Became ashamed and embarrased. Lost trust. Lost hope. Lost too many things to count... lost myself. Became scared for my emotional / mental/ physical/ spiritual well being. Got tired of crying myself to sleep. Had a conversation with a "lil" friend of mine. Learned that some things cannot be fixed, no matter how badly you want them to be. Spoke to grandmother. Spoke to parents. Spoke to God. Subsequently, broke his heart and mine by walking away.

Doing the right thing hurts like hell.

Current Status:

Wish broken boy the best as he -hopefully - seeks help to gain healing. Hoping he'll find the peace and happiness he so desperately needs...heartbroken that I couldn't be the one to give it to him.

Currently alternating between intense relief and indescribable sorrow/guilt. Never wanted or expected to be in this place. In need of help...so will eventually be going to a counselor to deal with the parasites of pain that are wriggling their way through my soul. Trying to rebuild self-esteem, rediscover identity, and re-claim faith. Ashamed. Humiliated. Broken...but hoping and praying that the healer of broken everythings will restore me. Hoping to learn from my failings to help myself and others keep from ever visting this place again.

Sorry for any heartache I've caused along the way.

Waiting for the sun to rise...waiting for the silent screams to ease into a still surrender. Trusting that purpose and direction will be revealed...and that I'll be granted the strength and grace to follow through.

That's where I'm at. That's all I've got.