rainbow wheel

some days i feel as if i am staring at a spinning rainbow wheel. i have committed to starting this conversation, both within myself and as part of a bigger theological discussion. and yet...i find myself stuck, wondering where to even begin. i guess i should just go for it.

i had a dream this week (that i actually remember). i dreamed that i had a family. i had a husband and two little boys. we went on adventures, we joked, we held hands. i was happy.

i want that life. i have tried for the last three years to convince myself that i don't. because it hurts. it hurts to know that i want a partner to travel the world with, and kids to love and teach and learn from. it hurts to know that i am nowhere close to having that life. i have convinced myself to let this dream go, because i have also convinced myself that i will never have it. to hope for it hurts.

because the truth is, for as much as i want that, i can't imagine that life for myself. i just can't picture it. i think there are two reasons why: first, i can't imagine a man with the qualities that i want/need that i can also stand to be around every day. second, i can't imagine anyone who would actually want to love and be with me every day.

these two premises are deeply problematic. the first makes me incapable of love, the second makes me incapable of being loved. or perhaps more appropriately worded: incapable of loving and incapable of allowing someone to love me. the first makes me unable to hold someone else's complete vulnerability, and the second makes me unable to trust someone with my own vulnerability.

to me, love is not safe, it is dangerous. it is not worth risking for.

this is somewhat shocking to articulate. in friendships, i tend to love freely and deeply. i continue to risk and invest in friendships, even when i know they can only last for a time, and even though i have been hurt in the past. i can't comprehend how i can be this way in a friendship and not in a relationship. to sum: it seems i don't know how to love within the context of an intimate dating relationship, and it also seems that i still believe that i am unworthy of being loved. so there's that. what does this have to do with this conversation about sexuality? to tell you the truth, i'm not sure i know. but it would seem that if i can't seem to wrap my brain around being in a relationship with someone, it is not a surprise that i can't wrap my brain around sex.

sex, like many other things, serves a function for everyone. for some, it is merely an act intended for procreation. for some, it is merely an act that satisfies some physical and biological urge or need. i see sex as an act of utter vulnerability - a vulnerability that i can't comprehend.

some questions that i have moving forward from here:
- why do i still feel unlovable?
- what is it about vulnerability (in dating relationships) that scares me so much, given that i am pretty good at it in friendships?
- how should sex function in our lives? how do we distort that function? what does that distortion do to us as humans?
- is my desire for a family simply related to enculturation and gender stereotypes? is it just because i know that staying single means that eventually i will be the only one of my friends who is still single, and that is a lonely place (for an extrovert) to be?
- is sex part of what it means to be human (the everyone has sex argument)? if i don't ever have sex, does that make me less human, or somehow deficient?

big questions.

sexuality and identity

year two can be summed up or categorized by three themes:
creativity
sexuality
formation

nearly every conversation i seem to be having is about one or more of these topics, and often, all three.

that said, i feel very strongly that i have some work to do. perhaps some healing, maybe some confession, certainly some articulating of my own story that helps me to find clarity. there is going to be a lot of uncertainty on this journey. i will probably say a lot of things that will be in process. i may not want to land on them for a long time, or incorporate them as axiomatic for my life, but they might be where i am at any given moment. i will also be raising and addressing what i think are valid, honest, and important questions. because of these things, and because if i am posting it might keep me accountable to actually do the work, i think that i will be posting this journey here - but with some limitations.

first, i wont be advertising on my facebook. this will most likely severely limit my audience. that's okay. this means that the people reading it will be people who want to hear it, not just people who stumble upon my post in their newsfeed.

second, i reserve the right to password protect any post i desire. usually it will be because it is intensely vulnerable for me to share, and i am unsure about it. if i decide to password protect a post, my hope is that it doesn't stay password protected for too long, just long enough to run it by trusted sources to affirm that it is worthwhile to the conversation.

ADDENDUM: third, my hope is to be able to experience some of this process creatively as well. that may mean that you see more poetry (Lord willing), perhaps artwork, etc. know that in sharing those things i am simply trying to articulate my own process, not necessarily contribute to a larger conversation.

so...here it goes.

still more

air rushes inand for the hint of a moment
i am full
i am filled
until
the flutter of
adrenaline kicks
and just as quickly
the air escapes
the salty droplets
seem to halt
at my lashes
because i can't bring myself to
let go
there is a weight
so heavy on my chest
as the rhythm repeats:
in, full
panic, out
because i know
deep down i know
there is still more to process
still more pain
still more lies to dismantle
still more truth to unfold
this is me
i am strong
i am confident
i am whole
i am known
and named.
it isn't a lie
yet
words
and memories
still swirling around
still stuck in my heart
words
and memories
like bricks and mortar
keeping this wall
impenetrable
but why?
my biggest question is
why?
why is love still the issue?
why have i gotten so good at portraying an image
no matter how true
that it is the only thing even i can see?
why don't i believe it?

a unicorn or a leper

this is a blog about sex and singleness. i can't help it, the topic just seems to continue to come up in my life lately. and it seems that more often than not it results in me having to defend my life choices. so, this blog is part complaining and part insight into how it feels to be a single and abstinent twenty-seven year old woman.

"Being a virgin in this day and age is something to be proud of. You're like a unicorn." - Shirley Bennett (a character on the tv show Community)

i used to agree with this statement. i was proud of the choices i had made, and proud that sexual intimacy is something that i only want to experience with my husband (if/when he comes along). i have had a handful of experiences this summer, though, that have made me feel otherwise: like i am a virgin because i am undesirable, or that being a virgin at my age is weird and i am somehow less than. more and more people are starting to ask me when i am going to get married and start a family of my own. i suddenly feel pressure. but here is what i have to say in response to the pressure, and to the feeling that rises up inside me as i react:

if you know me at all, you know that family is incredibly important to me, as are children in general. if you know me, you know that i love to tell stories about my younger brothers and sisters, or my nieces and nephews. i speak about them as a proud big sister/auntie, and i do my best to love them despite being geographically separated from them.

and if you know me at all, you know that i love the children i interact with daily as well. i love the kids that i work with, and i love the kids of my dear friends who have become my family in seattle.

i have no shortage of people to love and invest in.

and just because i am not legally responsible for these people, and none of them share my genetics, does not mean that i don't have a family of my own.

i have chosen a path that has led to schooling and a schedule that keeps me tied loosely to my sanity sometimes. how in the world would i ever manage to fit a boyfriend, let alone a husband and a family into this? i am proud of what i am doing, and i feel called to what i am doing, even if that means that other parts of my life are on hold.

i am twenty-seven. i am single. i choose not to have sex.

this is who i am, and it shouldn't surprise anyone, nor should i have to apologize for it.

the vulnerability of lament

i was terrible about blogging my way through practicum last quarter, even though i wanted to share my journey through lament.

the truth of the matter is that i hit a point where sitting in the process of lament was way too hard. actually, i think it was more the case that the process of lament was doing its job, and the very act of lamenting led me to joy. but this is my effort to debrief the experience.

i went into the experience knowing full well that lament is not something that we do well or often. it occurred to me pretty early on that i think part of the reason why lament is so difficult is because it requires us to be vulnerable. it requires us to be honest with ourselves, and it requires us to be honest with the One we believe has somehow wronged us. when the poet of Lamentations cries out to God, he is incredibly detailed about the hurts and the wrongs his people have experienced, as well as the sin they have committed. the poet is also incredibly direct with God about how God has done them wrong, shares these intimate hurts with God, all in the midst of God's silence. and the poet doesn't get an immediate response.

so, what choice did i have but to ask God to help me to be vulnerable as i discovered lament. i asked God to take me to those deepest places of myself that needed to be brought to the surface, to be grieved, and to eventually be let go of. there was plenty of stuff to keep me occupied, most of which had to do with church, but there was one thing that came up that i wasn't anticipating having to deal with at this point in time.

it became apparent that it was time to lament my singleness - or my lack of a significant other. this still feels strange to say.

for at least a year or so, i have had this feeling (in my gut, my heart, my soul, wherever you want to place it) that perhaps the life i had always simply expected is not the life i am meant to live.

there was a time during my angsty teenage years when i would have said i had no desire to get married or have kids. but that was just a phase. deep down, i always assumed i would get married young and have a kid or two by the time i reached the aged of 27.

alas, here i am sans children and a husband. not only that, but when i am truly honest with myself about what i see in my future, i don't see those things. i am not even sure i still hope for those things.

then there's the fact that our culture emphasizes marriage and family in a way that is incredibly ostracizing to older single people. the older you get and the longer you remain unmarried, the weirder you are and the less value you have. the church is no exception to this. at the same time, when i attempt to share these sorts of thoughts with friends, they tend to be incredibly dismissive. when i mention that i'm not sure if i will ever get married, people are really quick to respond with something like "you just haven't met the right guy," or "it's not the right time." these things may or may not be true, but statements like these give me permission to tighten my grip ever so slightly, instead of holding these things loosely and giving them to God, and they don't honor where i feel God has me now.

the hard and fast truth is that at this point in time, i can't imagine myself getting married.

i realized i had to lament this fact for a few reasons. first, i am an extroverted person. i don't enjoy being alone. i would never actively choose to live alone. and yet, if i don't get married, odds are most of my friends around me will, and i will run out of roommates. second, i love children, and i would love to be a mom. i love watching them grow and learn, and i love what they have to teach me. there are certainly ways to have children without being married, but ideally, i would have a partner for parenting. third, and i hate that this is a concern of mine, but the adventures that i want to have around the world are made easier with a partner, particularly one who is a man. though it is not impossible to do the kind of work i want to do on my own, i would feel safer (and probably more sane) with someone by my side.

i am lamenting singleness because when you take marriage out of the equation, each of these concerns becomes that much more scary. figuring out the details of how my life will work in each of these areas without being married gets more difficult.

so here i am, being honest with myself about where i am at. this is as far as i have gotten in the process. i anticipate many more conversations with God about what this actually means, many more moments of watching sappy movies when i think to myself that i am being too hasty, and perhaps some tears shed. but this is the direction i feel God moving me for now...to let the idea of marriage and a family go. that's not to say God wont change my mind later in life, but all i can do is be faithful in the present.

on the bright side, i have no shortage of family in my life. my family of origin and my family of choice are both a means of grace for me. they continue to remind me that family...and love...is bigger than we give it credit for.

love

I have recently read two articles that have gotten me thinking. This one by Lori Gottlieb, and this one by Donald Miller. You can read these on your own, I wont rehash them here, but share some reflections. As I approach the landmark of 25 and look back on my 24th year, I can't say that I am where I thought I would be at this point last year. I have made some mistakes, been humbled, and grown a lot because of that. And I have learned a lot about love. There are things that I like about both of these articles, but at the same time, there are things that don't sit well with me. Gottlieb talks about "settling" in a relationship (read the article for the specific points she makes). To an extent, I think she has a point. The way that women go about seeking someone to spend their life with is somewhat shocking and discouraging. We have this fairytale ideal in our minds of what we should be holding out for. Its been my experience and observation that this does not exist. The story doesn't end with the charming Prince kissing the girl, followed by the words "and they lived happily ever after..." I think the point that Gottlieb is trying to make is that we need to be a little bit more realistic about what our expectations are and should be. My contention with her, though, is in some of the language she uses around "settling". The term, in my mind, sends a message that the person you are "settling" for is somehow subpar and you are lowering yourself in order to be with them. I think this robs a person of their inherent worth as a human. Rather than "settling", I prefer to think of this action as more of an awareness and a choice. Instead of choosing to seek after some unrealistic ideal that may or may not ever happen, Gottlieb's "settling" is to me the choice to engage real life as an adult. Similarly, Donald Miller talks about love as a need rather than an emotion. I love his language around this, and exploration of God as love, in this context of love as a need. Miller talks about this assumption that we have that a need exists because we have some sort of incompleteness or weakness...but what if that is not the case? What if need is inherent in what it means to be human and in relationship with God and others? After reading these two articles and reflecting for a bit, I think that love is a need. Love is a need for connection and relationship. But love is also an action, a choice. Love is a need that we each have, and love is the choice to meet that need for someone else. Without both of these things, a relationship cannot work. I cannot expect someone to meet my need for love if I am not choosing to meet their need as well. This is love. Love is not a fairytale romance. There is no "happily ever after"^[1]. Love is about walking side by side through the muck of life, a partnership, a daily choice to work together to move forward in life, to build each other up and help to meet each other's needs. This is the kind of love that I want. <BR><BR><BR><BR> ^[1]This is not to say there is no such thing as romance....that's an entirely different conversation

dating

i have decided something. dating, in and of itself, is an excellent activity. i think this for two reasons: a: i know myself pretty well, and am confident in who i am. i'm not willing to compromise myself for anyone. that makes it pretty easy to meet someone new and not be nervous they aren't going to like me. if someone doesn't like me while i'm being myself, its probably not going to work out. that kind of straight-forwardness is comforting. b: i also like learning new things about other people and about myself. dating presents a very unique opportunity for this. i get to meet all kinds of different people from all kinds of different backgrounds, and i get to interact with them in a pretty intentional way. that's cool! i also get to see how i react and respond to different things, what is important to me, and what i need to be aware of or change about myself. granted, there are those dates that i spend the entire time silently pleading to myself for them to end, but they don't happen that often. i also think dating is a practice that is highly underrated in a lot of christian circles. that's an entirely different blog post, though. ;)