Deep Roots

Two early, formative experiences with men have been standing out prominent in my memory lately. Especially during the downward slopes in my hormonal cycle. The days I feel angry. The days I feel Sad.

In some way, these experiences are also connected to the way I relate to God and church as well. I’ll describe them briefly, here.

(1). Among my very best childhood friends in Rochester, NY, were the sons of my mother’s good church friend. I enjoyed playing with these two brothers very much - most of the time. But on one occasion, they were at my house and they broke one of my favorite toys: my Mickey Mouse typewriter. Now, I hardly remember what a Mickey Mouse typewriter is (I’ll have to look it up!), but boy was I upset! I was QUITE unhappy with the boys for being so rough and destructive.

(2). My family attended church twice per week during my early childhood. One Sunday, after the service, when the adults were socializing, I was following these brothers around and trying to hang out with them, as normal. Except this time, there were some other boys with them as well. I did not realize this but the boys (I imagine this was due to the “outsider” boy influence) must have conspired to lead me to the infant “cry room.” Once in there, they turned off the lights, covered my mouth, and held me down on the floor. It was terrifying and confusing to me. Thankfully, an adult walked in. Every one went on with their business…

I’m not sure exactly how these experiences have played into my life, but I have some intuitions about it. I also know they must be significant because (A). I still vividly remember them and the emotions attached; and (B). It so happens that two of my long term romantic adult relationships have been with men named the same names as these boys and I am currently married to a man with one of those names.

My intuition tells me I am still working with some kind of karmic pattern.

The male/female dynamic is by nature a charged one. Add on the subtilities and complexities of our early experiences, not to mention, our culture, both religious and secular….it’s intense.

First, I’ll tackle the typewriter thing. Obviously, I love to write. I’ve come a long way from the “Mickey Mouse typewriter,” but here I am typing this blog post on my Apple computer’s keyboard. Expressing myself is a core part of my identity and likely part of my “mission” here. The “sloppy,” rough boys mishandling a beloved object….it’s like a foreshadowing to a mishandled heart. I do tend to think of men as rather messy and rough, and I don’t trust them with my most precious “stuff.”

My most recent broken heart of Oct 2021 sort of cemented that for me. I felt that my heart had been very mishandled. I wish I could say this pain was completely healed, but it still festers during times like these. The belief that I can’t possibly trust a “messy” boy with my “stuff” is certainly a part of my current stance and ego armor.

Second, the “cry room” incident. Damn. I hadn’t thought about that in years until the other week…the memory resurfaced. Prompted by me asking myself “why” men trying to “mansplain” the Bible to me online sort made me feel…angry. And bam! That memory popped up. Holy crap. I was held down by a group of boys including two of my best friends in a church that teaches men are the spiritual leaders? There could be some resentment going on….

The Holy Book of my religion, Christianity, has a teaching that women are supposed to be silent in church. I had my typewriter broken and mouth covered by boys at a young age.

Now, I have studied the Bible in depth, at the college level, during my Bachelor’s degree program of Philosophy/Religion. I have come to an understanding that the writings of the Bible are culturally influenced.

In my opinion, the reason there are (presumably) no books of the Bible written by women is not because God does not deem them worthy, but because society was heavily patriarchal and women were not provided the same rights as men.

But not everyone feels this way. Some Christians believe that men are intended to teach in Church and women are not. In fact, the majority of Christian religions hold this as a truth.

So….why the anger? Why the memories? I’m not sure…

It probably has something to do with my deep feeling that I would like to see more women leaders. I would love to see a sermon powerfully delivered by a woman. I would like to see women celebrated for more than their roles as sex goddesses, wives, and mothers.

It makes me angry that women are (sometimes) disregarded and discarded in middle age.

I never wanted that….

To have a small taste of it and then stand next to a man in a church who is supposed to be my spiritual leader….

Feels…kind of….weird.

I can understand that we are all imperfect humans. I can forgive. But I cannot fully submit.

I cannot because I don’t believe that teaching.

I cannot accept that men are the chosen spiritual leaders of God, by default.

This doesn’t mean maybe one day, I will believe this….maybe God will show me this to be true. I could be wrong.

It’s just right now, in my heart, soul, body, and certainly mind, this feels off to me.

That said, my Church experience this Sunday (yesterday) brought me more peace than I had felt in a long time and I slept GREAT that night.

So I’m planning to attend on Wednesday morning too…there is a “Healing Service.” Not sure what that is but it sounds intriguing.

I know I don’t have all the answers. Just a handful of experiences and a microphone.

Ultimately, I trust God, on a deep, personal level. I know He will put me in correct relationship with my fellow humans.

Thank you God.