Thursday, October 07, 2004

i have big feet... - relaunch

i have big feet. actually all the women in my family do. have you ever worn a pair of shoes that didn’t fit, too tight, too small? i have spent my life trying to squeeze my feet into shoes that were 2 sizes too small. i only realized this a few months ago; that maybe they weren’t the right shoes, maybe these shoes were supposed to be thrown away. i have tried to fit the nice, silent, hospitable, help mate shoes that the church has been trying to squeeze women in since, well i guess since before there was a church to fit in to. and ya know what? they don’t fit.

i should have been a man. there, i said it. it’s not a sexual thing, it’s a gift thing. i make people uncomfortable. i am a natural leader, a challenger, a strong person, a person with a voice. a God-given voice. i notice things, i ask hard questions, i don’t like pat answers or being patronized. i should have been a man.

but i am a woman. and i have a voice. i have silenced myself and been silenced by the church for so long that what bursts out of me is like the steam whistle on a train as it rolls into town. it’s shrill and only plays one note. not because there aren’t more notes to play, just because i have no experience in playing anything else. i so long to give the rest of my notes a try, to learn to play my voice in an environment that allows me to misspeak sometimes, to sing ‘off-key’, to practice until i can get it tuned in. but it’s not safe, there isn’t that place.

i think i’ll just go barefoot for a bit and try to find it on my own. maybe here is the place? i don't know, bear with me. it might sound angry for a while, but i'll mellow and find balance as i go along. i think it's part of the grieving process. realizing the heresy that i believed to be true for so long really damaged me. replacing the lies with the truth is helping, but it is a process. barefoot sounds good. feel the grass between my toes already.


wow - how can 4 months change things so drastically... maybe here is the place afterall.

1 comment:

bobbie said...

hello old self. six years. how courageous you were. thank you old self. for taking the chance. for writing here. for feeling the grass between your toes. it feels really good now doesn't it?

we now have a closet of beautiful shoes - lots and lots and they fit really well. sometimes we still go barefoot - or even sit by the fire with comfy warm slippers on - no more tiny little toe squishy shoes - nobody buys our shoes but us now. thank you old self. i love you too - but i don't miss you much at all.