New Life

I'm pretty sure this post will be completely discombobulated and confused, but it is what it is. That's where my brain is. I've been introduced to several feminist blogs lately. And I am reading them voraciously. Sickeningly so. Glued to them. Trying to learn (or unlearn) and process and put into perspective where I'm at today. It is at once, exhausting and exhilarating.

Somewhere along the way, I lost my voice. The woman that at one time took on a 30 person church council and told them they were full of misogynistic shit and didn't think anything of it to a trembling being who couldn't even express a simple desire for fountain diet coke and not the kind that came in a twist off cap bottle. How did that happen and how am I supposed to get that back?

I've had glimpses of that girl. I attended a women's Bible Study at the Dead Guy's dad's church for almost six months after he died. It was at once healing and suffocating. It was a one pastor (male, of course) church where I at least felt welcome in my grief. Until we started really STUDYING. At which point, my brain engaged and spewed forth the opinions of the heretic woman I used to know. Reading a passage from James and discussing it and hearing one matriarch say, "We better ask Pastor so and so what he thinks it means." finally broke me to say such things as, "This is a women's Bible study. What makes you think that men have the ultimate say in what it means? We are here to discuss what it means to US, not what it means to THEM!" And the heretic was reborn. They were frightened and at the same time emboldened by my fervor. And I hope that they don't forget that moment.

I get flashes of this woman every once in awhile. She's begging to reappear. That self-confident woman that has opinions and thoughts and moxie. I used to cherish my moxie. That part of me that wouldn't take the crap of the paternalistic society I live in. I used to fight it. And she might become reborn. I'm frightened of her, but I think she is the true me. It's just a matter of time before she takes over. And I like her, too. But I'm confused and uncomfortable with her anymore.

I think I finally put my finger on it tonight as I was driving to the meeting. I think that since I so supremely fucked up my life that I don't have the "right" to my old thoughts. But I do. I SO do. That's the real me that's screaming to reappear. She's the one that really lived her life. The drunken sot that drank in her closet is NOT me. She was a phase of me. But she's not me. I should be excited that I know that, but I'm mostly afraid.

I ran into a man tonight that I used to worship. He and I got sober together. Him - about two weeks after me. We'd talk late at night on the phone when we were struggling with life. I had a crush on him. A big, big crush, and then suddenly at about a year and a half sober, he started to irritate me and I couldn't figure out why. This was a man that walked the plank with me. But one day, I finally got it. We may have gotten sober together, but he's a fucking male chauvinist pig and I was done making excuses for him. And it was over. He's still a goddamn fucking dick, but I pity him, because he doesn't get it. He has NO idea why I don't enjoy his company anymore. I've told him in so many words why, but his brain is incapable of understanding it. He has no idea how much he hates women and puts them down in every breath he takes. And I won't stand for it.

And I like that I don't stand for it. I like that alot. The heretic is reborn. She may scare me, but she's real. She's so fucking real.