tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31135357304159125572024-03-16T23:53:30.794-07:00Darcy's Heart-StirringsThoughts, passions, dreams, life with kids, healing-journey, adventures, love, spiritual journey, reviews, critiques, and whatever randomness comes off the tips of my fingers.
Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.comBlogger123125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-28922957673534377862016-10-19T15:53:00.000-07:002016-10-19T15:53:50.027-07:00Grab 'Em By The Pussy <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>*Originally posted as a Facebook post. </i><br /><div>
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I don't know how to start this post. So I'm skipping the intro.<br /></div>
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<b>Donald Trump is an abuser.</b> Textbook abuser. He just bragged about sexually assaulting women. He's going to court on child rape charges. He has repeatedly said horrifyingly disgusting things about women. He grabbed his own daughter's ass at the convention and has made lewd comments about her body and how he'd sleep with her if she wasn't his daughter. He raped his 1st wife. He said Paris Hilton was “sexy” when she was 12. He reportedly shoved a married women into a closet, kissed and groped her. <i>"Grab 'em by the pussy"</i>, he laughs. "Don't wait, just kiss them". "When you're famous, you can do anything you want." And people are defending him. Saying they’ll still vote for him. Saying it’s not that bad. Bending over backwards to justify his depravity. <br /></div>
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And I am broken. <b>Because I have seen this before.</b> <br /></div>
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Trump is the personification of every abuser in the church, in the culture in which I was raised. The ones I've met, the ones I've written about, the ones on the news, the ones that made my friends cry while I held them, the ones holding influence over masses of people. The ones who rape little girls and boys then "repent" and keep on leading people. <b>The ones who treat women like shit, as sexual objects for their pleasure, as less-than human, yet are lauded as a Man of God because they have all the best words. </b>The ones that stand up in the pulpit while the people they've abused are trapped in the audience pretending to be OK. The ones paid to smile and preach while doing deeds of darkness behind closed doors.<br /></div>
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Every Trump supporter, voter, and defender are every enabler I've ever met, written about, and watched. The ones covering up the abuser's scandals. The ones making pregnant 13-yr-olds disappear. <b>The ones loudly proclaiming we should forgive the abuser because Jesus has forgiven him. </b>The ones sitting quietly in church meetings, acquiescing to the Man of God, instead of standing up and saying "this is wrong and you are done". The ones who say "we don't need to involve the police, it isn't that bad". <b>The ones who don't want to ruin the reputation of the abuser so they instead ruin the souls of the abused.</b> <b>They sacrifice the victims to uphold the career of the abuser, to keep their power, because power is life to them.</b> They turn on the abused and say "you need to forgive, Jesus would want you to, you'll regret it if you don't" and leave pieces of victims’ souls strewn along the road. A worthy sacrifice for the end goal. <br /></div>
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<b>And so I feel like a cornered animal, like a hunted creature, claws out, back to the wall, unsafe in my own world. </b>Betrayed, surrounded by betrayers. My flight-or-fight response kicks in because the people around me are the enablers and the abuser is spouting the same words on TV as every church pervert and narcissist has spouted from pulpits and podiums. Because people are praising him and excusing his abuse because of his power, just like they did that pastor, that teacher, that preacher, that elder, that man of God who spoke great things. </div>
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<b>Only this time, the abuser might be president.</b> <br /></div>
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He's been supported by so many enablers, that he could be our next president. <br /></div>
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America is full of enablers and they are our own families and our own neighbors and our pastors and teachers and Christian leaders and government officials. <i>We are surrounded by people who see the reputation and career of an abuser and what he can do for them as more important than the life and souls of the victims and future victims.</i> <b>We are stuck in a culture that laughs at sexual assault and puts the assaulter in the White House, endowing him with all the power, and tells women to get over it that it wasn't that bad that we're overreacting and need to sit down and shut up, that this is what we need, what is good for us.</b> Take it, girls. You'll like it. We sit here and watch you defend the indefensible and we rage and we cry and we wonder what broke and if it can ever be fixed.<br /></div>
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<i>"All men do that, it's no big deal"</i>, they say. And we look around us, angry and scared, and wonder if we have been so wrong about the world, if we are in danger from people we thought safe because "all men" fantasize about raping women, according to the enablers and the abusers. My skin is crawling and I want to throw up. <br /></div>
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<b>We are trapped in a spiral of helplessness as we watch the personification of all our abusers become the most powerful man in the world, upheld by his enablers, who are people we thought we could trust.</b><br /></div>
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And I die a little inside. <br /></div>
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<b>Because in Trump I see the abusers that got away with it, were praised for it. In my fellow countrymen I see the enablers that let them, that gave them power.</b> And no one cares about the victims. Their ideology, their hatred for Democrats and liberals and gays, their desire for power trumps everything, even people's lives.<br /></div>
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And they destroy themselves along with us because what they don't know that I do is that <i>abusers only use enablers until they can be of no more use. </i><br /></div>
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We all lose this one. Except the abuser. He wins. Because you, people of America, enabled him. </div>
Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-46558830886576909222016-10-12T12:13:00.000-07:002016-10-12T12:13:42.514-07:00In Which I Cuss <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
"Watch your language!"<br />
<br />
No, I fucking won't. I cuss. A lot. When appropriate. I like to cuss. People liked to be shocked at it and tell me no one will listen to a word I say if I don't clean up my mouth. <b>They mistake me for someone who gives a shit. </b><br />
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I even let my kids cuss, most adults won't like it and they can't use those words at school. My 10-yr-old asked "Mom, if shit means poop, why can we say poop but not shit?" I didn't have an answer that was logical enough for her analytical mind. "Because the culture says so" doesn't fly well with her. "That's a stupid reason". Yes, Baby, it is. <b>In our home, "bad words" are the words used to degrade another human being, not 4-letter words that someone decided are arbitrarily "bad". </b><br />
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But I don't swear like a sailor just to shock people. (OK sometimes I do, I admit.) I have reasons. They may not make sense to others. I don't care, really. They're my reasons and that's good enough.<br />
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<b>From birth, I was controlled.</b> In every way a person can be controlled by another, I was. <i>My body, mind, eyes, ears, sexuality, words, actions, thoughts, and being were all completely controlled by my parents and my church in the name of their god.</i> It took me years and much trepidation to throw off that control.<br />
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I started with my body. At 19 years old, I went into a western wear store and bought my first pair of Wrangler jeans (hey, I'm from redneck town, it's what all the cool kids wore). I would stuff them in my backpack and change from a long, shapeless skirt into my new jeans before walking into the community college I was attending an hour away from my home in the mountains. I'd change back into the skirt before going home. But it felt so wild and rebellious. I cut off my long hair and got it styled. I bought short skirts and tights and boots that were more in style and fit my body better, pushing the line of what my parents thought was acceptable and modest. <b>These were all baby steps toward taking control of my own body.</b> I was shamed for it, but I kept moving forward.<br />
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I started figuring out my sexuality. Looking things up in books and online, asking questions of people I trusted. Making out with my boyfriend, figuring out what I liked, coming to the awareness that desire was a good thing, a human thing. <i>That I was human after all.</i> Everything that was "sin", that would soil my pure heart. Hell, even falling in love was something I was not allowed. That was the first step of taking control of my sexuality. <b>I slowly, bit by bit, piece by piece, took back my sexuality from the ones holding it hostage with threats of hell and contamination.</b> It was scary and confusing but exhilarating and empowering.<br />
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I started renting movies after I left home to become a nanny to pay for school. I rented all the popular 80's and 90's movies that I wasn't allowed to watch. I studied them with all the focus and seriousness of a foreigner studying the culture in which they were trying to assimilate. I bought music I wasn't allowed to listen to. I went out with friends to see movies in the theater, went to concerts, went ice skating where they played rock music, and hung out with people I never would've been allowed to associate with, let alone befriend. I read books that were forbidden. <b>My mind was opened to the vastness and wonder that is philosophy and psychology and science and fiction.</b> The world opened and changed before my very eyes and it took my breath away.<br />
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<b>In every way that I had been controlled, I carefully and slowly threw off the chains and chose my own way, embraced my own body, freed my own mind.</b><br />
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And now I cuss up a blue streak. Whenever I feel like it. Because my words aren't controlled by others anymore. <b>I can tell my story if I want and I can say "fuck" if I want and no one can sanction or punish me for it. </b>My words are the last context in which I have thrown off the control that defined my life.<br />
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I love words. They flow off my tongue and from my fingertips like shiny pebbles rolling off my hand into the river, splashing and rippling delightfully. Words are my medium and life is my canvass and I use them to paint whatever picture I want others to see, whatever emotion I want them to feel. I like swear words just as much as any others. They're expressive, they're funny, they're shocking, they defy social norms and gender expectations, they are empowering, and sometimes they are the only words appropriate.<br />
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<b>But they're also meaningful to me as a symbolic reminder that no one controls any part of me anymore.</b> They're a symbol of hard-won freedom. I choose what words to say and what words not to say and when to say them.<br />
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<b>I fucking choose. </b><br />
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So when you try to control my words by shaming me for them, I can only throw my head back and laugh. Jesus fucking Christ, you don't know what kind of control and shame I've already tossed into the damn ditch. Your pathetic attempt at censorship can't touch what I've already lived through. That shit's got nothin' on the control of my past, the control that I've thoroughly and utterly discarded, and my give a damn's busted.<br />
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<b>Or, as I like to say these days, fuck that shit, I don't give a rat's ass, my words are mine. </b><br />
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<b>Fucking deal with it. </b>Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-54152316675495321672016-07-28T12:47:00.000-07:002016-07-28T18:41:49.492-07:00As A Homeschooler... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been watching my kids learn about their world and their place in it. Answering their questions about current events like the marriage equality ruling and "Mom, why would anyone think that's bad?" Talking about American racial tensions and what Black Lives Matter means and how we got here. About why a woman being the presidential nominee is so phenomenal and what it means for our culture. Listening to them talk derisively about Donald Trump and how they're scared for their friends from other countries and "Mom, how could anyone vote for stupid a racist?" Explaining why the man in the museum was being rude and loudly proclaiming that everything there was wrong because his god says so. Me, struggling to explain complex cultural issues to grade school children in ways that honor the complexity and don't create dogma in their heads.<br />
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<i><b>And I remember......</b></i><br />
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As a homeschooler, I was taught that the Civil War should instead be called "the War for Southern Independence". <b>Or sometimes "Lincoln's War".</b> Occasionally, "the War Between the States". The south was right in succeeding, after all, from the overstepping tyranny that was Lincoln's America. Slavery had nothing to do with it and most slaves were happy with their owners, even though I was taught that obviously slavery was not desirable and we were glad it didn't exist anymore.<br />
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As a homeschooler, the only thing I was taught about the Civil Rights movement was that <b>Martin Luther King Jr. was an adulterer and a liberal who stirred up division and not a Christian. </b>My birthday often fell on his day on the calendar, and I remember asking who he was and receiving the above answer. In my child-mind, he was not a good man and "we don't celebrate that day". I didn't know about segregation and Jim Crow until I was an adult.<br />
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As a homeschooler, I read biographies of the great Southern leaders, Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. <b>I read how they were good slave owners who treated their slaves well, how they fought against the evil that was President Lincoln who wanted to take away the state's rights to rule themselves.</b> How the War for Southern Independence had nothing to do with slavery and only godless liberals say it does. Even as an newly-made adult I boasted about being a Southern sympathizer. I was taught they were the heroes for standing up for what they believed in. I read "The Real Lincoln" and learned that President Lincoln was a liberal liar and an evil man that was out to destroy America and family values.<br />
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As a homeschooler, I was not taught about the Suffragette movement. I only learned that women couldn't vote, but then they could because some women protested. <b>Also that feminism was bad and once women could vote, feminism took over and destroyed the nation.</b> My A Beka history book glossed over the entire thing, painting the Suffragettes as rebellious women who might have done some good but really should have let God work it out while they stayed home in their place. I didn't know who Susan B. Anthony was until I was a mother of 2.<br />
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As a homeschooler, I was taught that <b>history was "His-Story" and only to be viewed through the lens of what God was doing with the nations of earth, else we wouldn't understand it.</b> Strangely, he mostly only did things with the nation of Israel, the countries of Europe, and the U.S.A. I guess the rest of the world didn't matter so much to God. We were taught that America was God's shining light on a hill to the world and He had a special plan for us in His Story. Manifest Destiny was the name of the game, for God's will, Amen.<br />
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As a homeschooler, I learned nothing of the history of Africa, Asia, Indonesia, Australia, or South America. I knew nothing of them or their culture or their people. Beyond being told <b>they were dark places of ungodly people who needed us white Americans and Europeans to take the gospel to them and save them from hell.</b><br />
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As a homeschooler, I learned nothing of current events. I grew up in the 80's and 90's and knew nothing about anything that happened during that time, even in my own country. I knew nothing of pop culture. I learned about the Victorians, the pioneers, the Scandinavian immigrants, the plantations of the South, and the Revolutionists of 1776. <b>I knew nothing about what was going on outside my own door, in what is now my history. </b>I am learning it after the fact.<br />
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As a homeschooler, <b>I was taught that science was deceptive.</b> That we were enlightened and knew what was really going on in the world, how the world really came to be. We couldn't believe the "evolutionists" and all new scientific discoveries that did not fit Young Earth Creationism and Flood Geology were wrong. I was taught that the earth was 6,000-8,000 years old, that carbon dating was inaccurate, that fossils were made by Noah's flood, that dinosaurs were on the Ark then died because of the harsh post-flood world, that there was a canopy of water above the earth that made the entire earth a greenhouse and came crashing down at the Flood and we didn't have poles before the flood. That there are still dinosaurs in remote areas of Africa and Loch Ness today, thus disproving evolution. And that anyone that says otherwise were deceived by Satan. <b>Everything had to be filtered through the lens of the Bible or it was discarded.</b> I didn't understand evolutionary biology until I was 28. I never knew what plate tectonics were until I was 30. I knew nothing about rock formation, biology, astronomy, hydrology, climatology, or any other -ology until I was a grown woman with 4 kids and hungry to understand the world I lived in.<br />
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As a homeschooler, we were taught that the world needed us to show them the truth about Creationism. <b>We were drilled on how to argue with "evolutionists", point by point.</b> How doing so would be showing them God and the light of the gospel and would save them. Now when young Creationists to that to me, I cringe. I was them once. They have no idea.<br />
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As a homeschooler, our "social studies" books were from Rod and Staff, a conservative Mennonite curriculum company. All the women in the pictures wore head coverings and long dresses and were homemakers. Everything was American-and-European-centric. <b>There wasn't much social studies going on in those books, other than the study of the Christian culture that we were being raised in.</b><br />
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As a homeschooler, I was not taught any sex ed. At 13 my mom told me the basics of how babies were made. I was horrified. <b>I was told only married people can do this and if you do it outside of marriage it's No Good Very Bad and could result in diseases and pregnancy.</b> Then they started pushing the courtship books and tapes. I was taught that dating was worldly and that we were not to be friends with boys because boys and girls can't be friends. That having a crush on a boy was emotional fornication and would take a little piece of my heart that I would never get back. At 14, I solemnly promised to commit to courtship and the authority of my parents to oversee it, thus ensuring my purity and the protection of my heart. I never heard or knew words like "penis" or "vagina" until I was 18 and in community college. I knew nothing at all about sex until I started experimenting with my boyfriend as an adult and getting advice from my friends in school and looking up books myself. I didn't know what homosexuality was until I was 19 and someone told me a friend was "gay" and I looked it up in the dictionary.<br />
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As a homeschooler, I was taught things like "character". Character mattered more than anything else. You could be intelligent but have no good character traits and that made your intelligence nothing. Who cares if you can read and write well if you're not nice to your siblings? Character included obedience to authority, cheerfulness, joyfulness, attentiveness, submission (if you were a woman), peacefulness, <b>all the fruits of the spirit translated in such a way to create a power dynamic of happy, obedience children with parents ruling over them benevolently. </b><br />
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As a homeschooler, I was taught strict gender roles. I sat through women's Bible studies where they argued whether a woman could work outside the home. <b>I was taught that working was OK in some instances, but being a wife/mother/homemaker was God's best plan for women.</b> That we had to submit to our husband's desires in this. That as a woman, I needed to learn skill like cooking, cleaning, sewing, and childcare to prepare me for my life's calling.<br />
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As a homeschooler, I was taught that we were the salt and light of the world. <b>That we were the cream of the crop, smarter, kinder, more godly, more pure, better in every way than our public schooled peers. </b>That the world would see us and glorify our Father in heaven. That the world was a dark place and we were to be in it but not of it. That meant dressing differently, smiling and being joyful (because the world was sad and we were to be different), talking differently, choosing different activities that reflected Christ, knowing our Bibles well, and being obedient to parents. Our long, shapeless skirts and long hair and submissive attitudes were a light to a world that didn't know what purity was. We were pure. It was our badge of honor. We were not to spoil that.<br />
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<b>As a homeschooler, my world was small and scared and black and white.</b> Nothing came into my world that didn't fit the worldview of the ones in charge. Everything outside was a threat. Friends were a threat. Books were a threat and heavily censored. TV was a threat. Current events were a threat. Shopping in certain sections of the store was a threat. The world was out to destroy us and we must stay pure, in knowledge and action. Renewed by the transforming of our minds, away from the thinking of the world.<br />
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<b>We were The Village, and there were monsters in the woods.</b> No one bothered to tell us the monsters weren't real. Even fake monsters serve their purpose. The difference was that the creators of those monsters actually believed in them.<br />
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I come jolting back to reality with yet another question from a searching mind. Where my kids aren't being raised in The Village, but in the world. <b>In it AND of it and proudly.</b> And they will understand it and learn to navigate it and make it their own. Even as their mother still quietly struggles and remembers.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-18328412206325039442016-07-15T10:04:00.000-07:002016-07-15T10:05:47.043-07:00Of Libraries, Flashbacks, and Alternate Realities <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I will probably never be free from the memories. No situation or activity is safe from the flashbacks, the comparisons, and the wonder that things were ever so dysfunctional for child-me and that they're so normal for my own kids.<br />
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Yesterday we went to the library for a presentation on Mt. Everest. The local university took an expedition to the top in 2012, and they put together a great video presentation for kids on geology, culture, and the amazing feat of scaling the world's tallest mountain.<br />
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In the middle of it, somewhere between talking about tectonic activity creating the Himalayans and the sacred ceremony and prayer flags the monks performed for the climbers, I had one of those weird disconnecting flashbacks that happen every so often. Like I'm suddenly an observer of an activity I remember taking part in in the past, and the one I'm taking part in in the present, watching from the outside.<br />
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I suddenly remembered being a child and going to presentations at the library. Or the IMAX. Or the Science Center in Seattle. Or a museum. We often went to such educational things. My mom thought we would learn best by experience and exposed us to more than a few really cool educational experiences.<br />
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I remembered being uncomfortable as a child every time something science-y was brought up. The words "millions of years ago" would produce an instant disconnect in my young mind. <b>We were trained to hear those words and disregard them from a very young age. </b>We'd usually get a talk in the car on the way home about how "the world" thinks that the earth is millions of years, but we know better and Everest has marine fossils on the top of it because of the Flood, not because of tectonic uplift (which we were told was made up by "evolutionists" who deny the Bible). <b>Geology talks were a waste of our time and I learned to shut them out, as if the words themselves had power to deceive and I needed to be on the alert. </b><br />
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"Multi-culturalism" was always portrayed as a bad thing. Or joked about as ridiculous.<b> I can't remember anytime in my childhood those words were spoken of in a positive way.</b> Adding other religions and their practices to the conversation only made the speaker more our enemy. As a child, talks of prayer flags and Tibetan monks offering sacrifices to the mountain was very uncomfortable. Not just while sitting there, but also nervously anticipating the talk my parent(s) would give later about how we don't accept that and how wrong it was and how I needed to be sure to respond correctly so they knew I didn't believe a word of it. <br />
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And I came back out of those flashbacks as I sat there, an adult, in our library, listening to the person teaching my kids about tectonic activity, geology, and Buddhist ceremonies and so many emotions flooded over me.<br />
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<b>Relief.</b> <i>Because my children will never know what it's like to be so foreign to the world they live in. </i>They sat there, soaking up the information, never once worrying that they were being deceived by Satan and the world, never worrying I was going to lecture them about the truth, never scared that they have questions they're not supposed to ask, never feeling like an outsider with an alternate narrative of reality, unable to engage in their world because they're not a part of it.<br />
<br />
<b>Frustration.</b> Because child Darcy deserved better. <i>Because I'm 32 years old, in charge of my own life, yet the scars of my past will always be there, showing up in the strangest, most unexpected places.</i> The childhood that formed me, formed me thoroughly and I cannot shake it because it is who I am. Frustration because there are children still being raised with this kind of psychological and spiritual abuse who will one day be adults unable to attend a kid's library presentation without their past smacking them in the face.<br />
<br />
<b>Hopelessness</b>. Because my parents will never understand the depth and severity of what they did. The consequences of the choices they made. <i>What was a phase for them was my entire childhood, my most formative years spent in one of the most toxic environments on earth.</i> The lasting effects indelibly imprinted on every cell in my body. They call me bitter and unforgiving. They excuse themselves with "we had good intentions". They say I'm making a big deal out of nothing and need to move on. <b>But they don't sit in a library and have flashbacks.</b> The fact they can call all of this, all of what made me, all of what I deal with on a daily basis because of their choices "nothing" says a lot. I think we will never be able to connect because of this. Even outsiders don't understand. The only ones that get it are the ones like me. The walking broken, the walking lost, the homeschooled impostors who struggle to find normalcy and belonging and peace. <br />
<br />
<b>And yet, also hope. Happiness. Thankfulness. Amazement.</b> Because my kids are being raised so.....<i>normal</i>. They'll have a solid foundation from which to choose whatever life they want. If they want to be weird and different in any way, they will be able to freely choose that. <i>They'll know what it's like to be part of the community and world that they live in. To not be an outsider because they're supposed to reject everything about "the world" and own a different reality. </i>To not have a different history, science, and social narrative than everyone else around them and the insecurity that comes with it.<br />
<br />
I hope they someday sit in a library with their kids and only remember with fondness the awesome time they had learning about Mt. Everest.<br />
<br />
<br />Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-27373773519230002092016-05-25T12:43:00.000-07:002016-05-25T12:43:00.010-07:00You're Gonna Hear Me Roar <div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="4p1uh" data-offset-key="5dam9-0-0" style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6wQSNTvYg25TlnQ6TmBGsqzO3wjKAx3-JvP7fejV7MXG9QMVbfTCLKf8L7zhsLez8PEM-znq-o_NtCpd2lpE_SjOaVBVgvKW_siEz_0DmvxhIGy6chA2cRi1ODzMLvkF059j8qpQykD-h/s1600/untitled-3839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6wQSNTvYg25TlnQ6TmBGsqzO3wjKAx3-JvP7fejV7MXG9QMVbfTCLKf8L7zhsLez8PEM-znq-o_NtCpd2lpE_SjOaVBVgvKW_siEz_0DmvxhIGy6chA2cRi1ODzMLvkF059j8qpQykD-h/s320/untitled-3839.jpg" width="320" /></a><span data-offset-key="5dam9-0-0">Today my 10-yr-old daughter got up on stage in front of about 500 people, 400 of her classmates, and sang Katy Perry's "Roar". </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="5dam9-0-0"><b>And I cried like a baby</b>. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="5dam9-0-0">Because there was my tiny daughter, in a tiger dress, dancing and singing the words <i>"You held me down, but I got up, Get ready 'cause I've had enough I see it all, I see it now. I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire, 'Cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roar!". </i></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="a8a8k-0-0">So I cried because once I was 10 years old and I didn't know what pop music was and I didn't go to school and I was forced to sing hymns for family members at Thanksgiving even though I hated it.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="a8a8k-0-0"><b>And I wasn't allowed to listen to "rebellious" music, and I didn't have a voice beyond what I was supposed to sing and say.</b> </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="a8a8k-0-0">Because my voice was a reflection of my parents and not mine at all.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="a8a8k-0-0">Because I wasn't allowed to express dissatisfaction with my life or overcoming or to be proud of myself because pride was the Devil's sin. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="a8a8k-0-0">Because I loved to sing and play the piano and my only outlet for my talent was classical music or special music at church. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="a8a8k-0-0">Because when I was 18, I performed "When You Say Nothing at All" at a family party, and my mom told me afterward that she was ashamed because I was singing about sex and it wasn't appropriate for an unmarried, pure girl. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="1fb41-0-0">I cried because I'm so proud of the person that my daughter is becoming and the struggles she has faced and will face because of ADHD, and she's singing about being her own person and rebelling against anyone that wants to take her down and make her into something more acceptable. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="1fb41-0-0">Because she does not care what anyone thinks of her, she just sings her soul in a tiger dress. </span></div>
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Because she's 10 and she has a voice and I love her voice and it has nothing to do with me. </div>
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<span data-offset-key="1fb41-0-0"><b>Because she will never know what it feels like to not have her mother as her biggest fan and ally.</b> </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="1fb41-0-0">Because I don't understand how any mother could treat their daughter the way my mother treated me. There are no excuses good enough, certainly not the God excuse. </span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="1fb41-0-0"><b>Because I'm 32 and have only recently found my voice and let it roar. </b></span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="1fb41-0-0">Because as I parent my children, I am exposing, grieving, and healing the broken places in my own heart. And it's painful and it hits me out of nowhere. Even in the middle of a 4th grade talent show. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;"><i>You held me down, but I got up</i></span></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;">Already brushing off the dust</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;" /><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;">You hear my voice, you hear that sound</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;" /><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;">Like thunder gonna shake the ground</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;" /><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;">You held me down, but I got up</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;" /><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;">Get ready 'cause I've had enough</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;" /><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;">I see it all, I see it now.</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;" /><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;">I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;" /><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;">'Cause I am a champion and you're gonna hear me roar</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 19.1429px; text-align: center; white-space: normal;">~Katy Perry </span></div>
Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-84732695574466646742016-03-10T08:05:00.000-08:002016-03-10T08:05:23.139-08:00I Fight These Demons - Part 2 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2016/03/i-fight-these-demons-so-i-can-explain.html" target="_blank">< Part One</a><br />
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<strong style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Part Two</strong></div>
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<em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I grew up thinking I was unworthy</em>.</div>
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Unworthy of love, nice things, friends, God’s favor. I strove to be the kind of person who would be worthy of these things, but always fell short. I did everything I could to look the part on the outside: I dressed modestly and acted like a godly young lady and played the part as best I could.</div>
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<strong style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">“Fake it til you make it,” my Mom liked to say to me.</strong></div>
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My journals of that time are so filled with anguish and desire to be accepted and to be good. I can barely read them. I want to go back there and hug that girl and tell her that she WAS worthy, she WAS good, <em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">she was enough</em>. But I can’t. I can’t go back there and comfort that girl with the broken heart that was broken by the ones who were supposed to protect it. <b>I am left with the woman she has become. The woman who has had to teach herself how to be loved and how to accept worthiness and how to see herself and the world through different eyes.</b></div>
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When a boy fell in love with me, and I with him, they all did their best to convince him that I was a terrible, selfish person and he would be sorry if he married me. That they knew me better and I was just putting on an act to impress him. He was skeptical, but thought maybe they really did know better. So he watched me, befriended me, and realized I was every bit the person he thought I was and my mom and sister were crazy.</div>
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I couldn’t understand why he would persist in loving a person like me, but he did and it was such a wonderful feeling.</div>
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<b>I was so afraid he would find out who I really was and would run far away.</b> </div>
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But that didn’t happen. We fought for our relationship against my parent’s wishes and we married very young and very in love. Not too long after we were married, we were talking and I said “Well, I am a selfish person”. He looked at me in surprise and said, “Why do you say that?” It was my turn to look at him in confusion and say, “Well, my mom and sister always told me I was selfish and I struggled my whole life to not be, but I guess it’s just who I am and I thought you knew that.” He took my face in his hands, looked right into my eyes, and said, “You are the most selfLESS person I have ever met. Never let anyone convince you otherwise. You can’t fool me. I know who you are. They don’t know who you are.”</div>
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I cried that day, at 20 years old, for the first time thinking that maybe I wasn’t the person my family had tried to convince me I was, that my religion tried to convince me I was, that I needed to hide and pretend not to be so people would love me. Maybe I really was loveable and the fact this man had married me wasn’t because I had fooled him into it. But it would be 5 more long years before I was able to clearly see how dysfunctional my past was, the part that fundamentalist religion and homeschool culture played, and began to heal and figure out who I was really and to fight for myself. It would be 10 more long years before I was able to put a label on the treatment I received from them.</div>
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<strong style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Emotional Abuse. </em></strong>The systematic diminishment of another person….their worth, their dignity, their character.</div>
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<em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">“Emotional abuse is like brain washing in that it systematically wears away at the victim’s self-confidence, sense of self-worth, trust in their own perceptions, and self-concept. Whether it is done by constant berating and belittling, by intimidating, or under the guise of ‘guidance,’ ‘teaching,’ or ‘advice,’ the results are similar. Eventually, the recipient of the abuse loses all sense of self and remnants of personal value. Emotional abuse cuts to the very core of a person, creating scars that may be far deeper and more lasting than physical ones.” </em>(University of Illinois, Counseling Center)</div>
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<strong style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Spiritual Abuse</em></strong>. The use of religion and spirituality to control, manipulate, coerce, dominate, and beat down. To control behavior and thoughts by religion.</div>
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<em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">“Spiritual abuse occurs when someone in a position of spiritual authority, the purpose of which is to ‘come underneath’ and serve, build, equip and make God’s people MORE free, misuses that authority placing themselves over God’s people to control, coerce or manipulate them for seemingly Godly purposes which are really their own.”</em> (Jeff VanVonderen, <em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The Subtle Power of Spiritual Abuse</em>)</div>
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<b>I can’t tell you what came first: the dysfunction or the religion.</b></div>
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But they worked together to create a complete brain-washing and erasing of my self-worth and self-concept. Our religion taught that self-esteem was really pride and God hates a prideful heart. We were not to think highly of ourselves but to remember that we were nothing without God and probably nothing even with His help. <b>To be told that I was a selfish, horrible person but that they loved me anyway “because you’re our daughter/sister” is no different than this view of God that makes us all worms who are only worthy of anything because God created us and therefore must love us. </b>Turning the idea of a “relationship with God” into an abusive relationship between a narcissist and a victim. A manipulative power-play. Is it any wonder that “God’s people” turn out abusive when they see Him as such?</div>
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If I try to say any of this to my family, to recount my experiences and feelings, I am told I’m overreacting, too sensitive, too emotional, that these things never happened or “didn’t happen like that”. I’m told that even if they did happen, I should forgive and move on because family is the most important thing in life and I’ll regret making a fuss over the past. That I was raised in a good home and was loved and am ungrateful. I am denied, belittled, and word has spread that I’m a crazy, unstable person who has a chip on my shoulder and is trying to tear apart our happy family. But I am done accepting their definition of who I am, their portrayal of my identity.</div>
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<em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I am not who they think I am</em>. I am so much more.</div>
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I am worthy of love. I am a good person. I am a human being, wife, mother, and friend. I love unconditionally and fiercely. I fight for the people I love and for people I don’t even know because I desperately want them to know that <em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">they are worth it</em>. <b>I fight my own demons to give my children a healthy mother and so I can explain the scars to them someday and they can know that I valued them by valuing myself</b> —</div>
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<strong style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">— That I fought for them by fighting for myself. <em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">That I broke the cycle</em>.</strong></div>
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“Adult survivors of emotional child abuse have only two life-choices: learn to self-reference or remain a victim. When your self-concept has been shredded, when you have been deeply injured and made to feel the injury was all your fault, when you look for approval to those who can not or will not provide it—you play the role assigned to you by your abusers.</div>
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It’s time to stop playing that role, time to write your own script. Victims of emotional abuse carry the cure in their own hearts and souls. Salvation means learning self-respect, earning the respect of others and making that respect the absolutely irreducible minimum requirement for all intimate relationships. For the emotionally abused child, healing does come down to “forgiveness”—forgiveness of yourself.”</div>
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~Andrew Vachss, taken from this excellent website: <a href="http://theinvisiblescar.wordpress.com/suggestions-for-adult-survivors/" style="border: 0px; color: #c04405; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">The Invisible Scar</a>.</div>
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Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-85862790547641960672016-03-10T07:55:00.000-08:002016-03-10T08:06:06.254-08:00I Fight These Demons So I Can Explain the Scars<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFd4aHoUmsWu_vgj31Zn-AS6uABlGDk2SayFEMLgOvXjmIIRc42AEncZwlshcyniCAsA1r0PkTt8qyldyXtr2G7jRWuMaCRtTIkOg3Gu1BUGp4CRrETZ5awtH_nVO2Z2k7aJA7QMyZPMF6/s1600/untitled-5806-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFd4aHoUmsWu_vgj31Zn-AS6uABlGDk2SayFEMLgOvXjmIIRc42AEncZwlshcyniCAsA1r0PkTt8qyldyXtr2G7jRWuMaCRtTIkOg3Gu1BUGp4CRrETZ5awtH_nVO2Z2k7aJA7QMyZPMF6/s320/untitled-5806-001.jpg" width="248" /></a></div>
<i>Note: Almost two years ago, I was in therapy, peeling back yet another layer of my story and finding help in processing it. Just having the therapist give validation and labels to parts of my story was amazingly healing. Part of me processing and working through some of the darker parts that I hadn't faced at that time was writing out this story. I asked it to be posted on Homeschooler's Anonymous anonymously at the time, thinking that it might help others but feeling far too vulnerable and afraid of repercussions to put my own name on it. Yesterday, I realized it was time, I was ready to put my name on this small piece of my story. Originally posted on <a href="http://homeschoolersanonymous.org/2014/07/09/i-fight-these-demons-so-i-can-explain-the-scars-shiphrahs-story-part-one/" target="_blank">Homeschooler's Anonymous</a>, July 2014. </i><br />
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<strong style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Part One</strong></div>
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<em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I was never good enough.</em></div>
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From as far back as I can remember, I was never good enough. I was told I was selfish, lazy, prideful, rebellious, and argumentative. I was told I needed to ask God to forgive me and make me a good person through Him (because we could never be good on our own, only with Jesus’ help and then it was never to our credit, only to His).</div>
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When my little sister picked fights with me and I lashed out at her, I was the one scolded, grounded, spanked, had things taken from me, forced to spend time with her to “help us get along”, told to get along and be nice and stop being so selfish and be a better example because I was the oldest. She often got away scot-free, even when she started it. I was told numerous times that if I couldn’t learn to get along with my sister then I couldn’t have friends. Family is more important than friends and how you treat your family tells you how you will treat friends. And if you treat friends better than family, you’re a special kind of hypocrite. I tried to explain why it was easier to treat my friends better. Because they were nice to me.</div>
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<strong style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I was then told that Jesus said “what good is it if you love those who love you?” but loving people who aren’t nice to you is much better in God’s eyes.</strong></div>
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Everything I did was criticized. It was never good enough. There was always something to be fixed, some way to do things better. I remember being about 12 years old and telling my mom in exasperation, “All you ever do is criticize me. You never tell me what I do right, only ever what I do wrong.” She first acted surprised and denied it, then promised to try to notice the good before telling me the bad. That didn’t last very long and felt very fake even when she tried. Like she was straining to find something good to say to get it out of the way so she could go on to grasp “this teachable moment”. Of course, when I resisted the “teachable moment”, I was the one at fault for being “unteachable”.</div>
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To this day when someone says “teachable moment” I recoil.</div>
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I was always “unteachable” because I often argued with my mom’s criticism. <b>Because her words stung and fighting them off was my only defense, as little as it was.</b> I was good with words and knew how to wield them as weapons of defense. I often had Proverbs quoted at me that said that people that were unteachable were fools and only those willing to listen to constructive criticism were people of good character whom God loved. So I guess that was just another thing that God hated about me too.</div>
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I was told constantly that I was selfish, and it didn’t take long for my sister to take up that anthem against me. Of course, sister had “a servant’s heart” and was selfless and kind and I should be more like her. She was generous and I was stingy. I only thought of myself and my needs and God was not pleased with that. I should ask God to give me a servant’s heart. I spent many hours as a child crying to God to give me this elusive servant’s heart that I apparently lacked and needed before my mom would accept me and my actions. Then maybe my sister wouldn’t hate me either. We were given roles very early in life and we played them well. She learned early how to manipulate our parents against me and she was always believed over me.</div>
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I was a child of many emotions. Sensitive, thinking, opinionated, deeply feeling.</div>
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<strong style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">But I quickly learned that some emotions were not acceptable, maybe even a sin, and I was not allowed to express them.</strong></div>
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I learned that if I was angry, it was “godly” to forgive and forget that anger and definitely don’t express it. “Be angry but do not sin” meant “be angry but never tell anyone or show it”. There were times I wanted to scream because of the pent-up feelings of anger at my parents, anger at my sister, and anger at myself for being angry with them. I must be the terrible person they said I was because I couldn’t stop being angry and sad all the time. I begged God to make me nice and happy and sweet. “Why can’t you be sweet like your sister?” was something I heard often. I often escaped with a book into my favorite tree, away from everyone I could possibly sin against, away from the constant criticism of my actions and “bad attitudes” and the reminders that I was rebellious against God and my parents.</div>
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When I was an early teen, things only got worse. Thanks to a cult leader called Bill Gothard and his seminars and his followers, my family finally found answers to all our problems and embraced the promises to have the perfect godly life if we followed the Basic Principles. I was 14 and I thought, yes! This is the answer! <i>The rule list that will finally make me a good person whom my family will love, who will be worthy of their love and acceptance.</i> I poured my heart and soul into the materials, spending hours praying to God to forgive me for<a href="http://iblp.org/questions/how-can-i-reclaim-areas-my-life-i-surrendered-satan" target="_blank"> all the ground I gave to Satan</a>. For not accepting my parents as the<a href="https://awaypoint.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/gothard-chain-of-command.jpg" target="_blank"> hammer and chisel</a> that were molding me into the diamond I was meant to be. My resistance of their <a href="http://www.recoveringgrace.org/media/HowToMakeAnAppealPage4.jpg" target="_blank">umbrella of authority</a> must be the reason I’m a bad, selfish person. I was determined to finally fix my broken soul. I befriended many “godly girls” who were homeschoolers and whose families understood and followed the secrets of a godly life, hoping their goodness would rub off on me. Eventually, those girls popped into arguments between me and my mom… ”why can’t you be more like them? They would never treat their parents and sister the way you do.” I wanted nothing more than to be “more like them” and tried even harder.</div>
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I had many teary confessions to my parents for being rebellious. They piled on the modesty books and the courtship books and all the books that told me I was a naturally bad person and needed my parents as my authority because I couldn’t trust my heart to know what was best for me. I ate them up, thinking I would find the answer to all my problems. When my sister would lie about me, get me into trouble, pick fights with me until I snapped at her, I would take a breath, search my own heart for any evil thoughts, and beg her to forgive me for being selfish. She always did, of course. It was very magnanimous of her as a good, generous person to forgive my selfish actions.</div>
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There were some dark times in there. For a while I was convinced that since I was such a terrible person and my family hated me so much, that maybe God hated me too and what was the point of me living? I began to fantasize about ways I could kill myself and relieve my family of the burden of me. I never went through with anything.</div>
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<strong style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I was afraid of death, that God really did hate me and would send me to hell and I couldn’t die until I turned into a better person.</strong></div>
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<a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2016/03/i-fight-these-demons-part-2.html" target="_blank">Part Two > </a></div>
Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-90523903591615056382016-02-19T09:31:00.000-08:002016-02-19T09:31:19.930-08:00Not A Nice Story <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
From babyhood they said <i>"You are a dirty sinner, there is nothing good in you, you are destined for hell because of your nature."</i><br />
<br />
So we, small humans, awoke to a world where toddlers need the sin and foolishness beaten out of them with switches and wooden spoons and belts.<br />
<br />
They said <i>"Only with Jesus are you worth anything."</i><br />
<br />
So as small children we begged Jesus to come into our hearts and make the dirty clean.<br />
<br />
They said <i>"Because of your sin, God cannot look at you, Jesus had to die. You killed him."</i><br />
<br />
So we mourned that we were so sinful that God couldn't look at us without someone else standing in our place.<br />
<br />
They said <i>"You are human, a sinner, you cannot help it, only Jesus can make you worth anything."</i><br />
<br />
So we felt that we were worthless, that no matter how hard we try, we will never be good enough, while some kept trying anyway and some completely gave up.<br />
<br />
They said <i>"If you fall in love with a boy, you are committing emotional fornication."</i><br />
<br />
So we guarded our hearts lest sin defile us with merely a thought, and when our hearts betrayed us and we fell in love with a boy, we hated ourselves and knew we were worth less than before, we had lost a piece of our hearts we would never get back.<br />
<br />
They said <i>"Your body needs to be hidden because it is dangerous and if a man lusts after you because of your clothing or movements, it is your fault"</i>.<br />
<br />
So we covered our bodies from head to toe, swathed our femininity in fabric hoping no one would notice the curves, and spent years of our life worrying that we may cause a man to stumble and thus defile our own hearts and his.<br />
<br />
They said <i>"Boys only want one thing, so be sure you don't do anything that makes them think they can take it from you. They can't help it, this is how God made them, we must help them."</i><br />
<br />
So we lived in fear of men who God made pigs then placed the responsibility for their pig-ness on us.<br />
<br />
They said <i>"If you kiss a boy, you're like a lolly-pop that's been licked, a paper heart that's been torn, you are worth less than before, and you've given away a part of you that you can never get back."</i><br />
<br />
So we spent our days afraid, terrified we would lose our worth and have nothing to give a future spouse.<br />
<br />
They said <i>"Virginity and purity give you value, don't give that away."</i><br />
<br />
So whether virginity was taken forcefully or given lovingly, we were left worthless, used goods, and told no godly man would want us now.<br />
<br />
They said <i>"You cannot hear God for yourself, you must obey your authorities. They know what is best for you."</i><br />
<br />
So we submitted to things that no human being deserves to suffer, because otherwise God would be angry and not bless our lives. Submitting to unjust treatment was what Jesus did, after all.<br />
<br />
They said <i>"You are rebellious. Rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft."</i><br />
<br />
So we begged God's forgiveness for the ways we wanted something different than they wanted.<br />
<br />
They said <i>"You are a woman, emotional, incapable of leading, easily deceived. You must stay in your place, submit, and only then God will bless you."</i><br />
<br />
So we felt loathing for our womanhood, wondering why God would make us inferior, and feeling guilty that we dare question the Almighty's plan, that we are not happy with his decree.<br />
<br />
And now.....now we are told <i>"Why are you depressed? Why do you have anxiety? Why the addictions, the anger, the rage, the self-loathing? Why can't you just be happy and normal?"</i><br />
<br />
<b>As if no one can connect the dots.</b> As if their actions did not have consequences. <b>As if a child can be raised to hate themselves in the Name of God and suddenly grow into an adult that is healthy.</b> As if a lifetime of emotional trauma and spiritual abuse suddenly vanishes because a person changes their mind about who they are and their place in the world.<br />
<br />
That's not how it works. That is only the beginning of a journey that could take the rest of our lives. A journey we are told not to speak of because it makes people uncomfortable, because they'd rather call us names like "bitter" and "unforgiving" than to look deep into the darkness of our hearts and hear tales of pain and see the rawness of souls taught to hate themselves. <b>Because those stories aren't nice ones.</b> But we will not change them in order to make others comfortable.<br />
<br />
Do not tell us to "forgive". Forgiveness has nothing to do with it. Do not tell us to "get over it". <b>One does not "get over" years of trauma and brainwashing and brain-wiring from babyhood just by making a single choice. </b>We do not choose the nightmares. We do not choose the triggers and the gut-level reactions and the panic attacks. We had 18+ years of being taught that we are worthless, that God cannot stand to look at us, that we killed Jesus, that our worth is in our virginity or how well we obey our parents, that who we are is dirty and sinful. <b>Give us at least 18+ years to re-wire our brains and heal those festering wounds and to learn to love ourselves where before there was only self-loathing.</b> Some wounds cannot be healed. They can only be lived with. And scars do not disappear on a whim. <i>But they can tell our stories and make us strong.</i><br />
<br />
<b>And tell our stories we will, and get stronger for the telling.</b> We heal a little more every time we speak out loud what was hidden and decide that we are worth loving and our stories worth the telling.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com64tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-31043438988135976792015-12-02T17:56:00.001-08:002015-12-02T17:56:27.933-08:00I Am No Longer Afraid <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>"You're different these days."</b><br />
<br />
It was a compliment this time. Though I usually hear it in a chiding tone from someone who thinks it their right to comment with displeasure on my life-journey. But this time, surprisingly, it was in admiration from someone who has known me a long time. It made me smile.<br />
<br />
<br />
I <i>am</i> different these days. I am....happy. Confident. Free. Comfortable with myself and my place in the world.<br />
<br />
<b>But mostly, I am unafraid.</b><br />
<br />
Fear has shadowed my entire life. I can never remember not being afraid. My earliest memories were tainted with fear, even the happiest of them.<br />
<br />
But these days, <i>that fear is gone</i>. It's amazing how that changes a person.<br />
<br />
<b>I am no longer afraid of god.</b> Afraid of displeasing him. Of not following his will for my life. Of making a mistake and disappointing him. <i>Of him ruining my life because that's what god does when you rebel, it's how he shows you he loves you, by not letting you get away with your own selfish desires.</i> His plans are so much better than yours, after all.<br />
<br />
<b>I am no longer afraid of hell.</b> Of accidentally sinning and dying before I can repent. I had nightmares about that as a small child. I was terrified of spending eternity in hell. It seemed so easy to screw up and end up punished after you die. I was so afraid of my friends going to hell too. I was so afraid that I wouldn't get to tell enough people about Jesus in my life and would be responsible for them dying and going to hell.<br />
<br />
<b>I am no longer afraid of punishment. </b>For most of my life, I lived under fear of punishment. From my parents, from god. Messing up meant harsh punishments. Spanking, grounding, losing friend privileges, having to do extra chores, writing out a hundred sentences that say "I will not blame-shift". But mostly spankings, until I became a teen. Then it was lectures, control of resources, and groundings that killed the small social life I had. For every little infraction, because all sins are the same, and foolishness must be driven out of the heart of a child. <i>Afraid of punishment from god who could not only send me to hell if I died unrepentant, but he could make my life miserable too.</i> He could do all manner of horrible things to teach me a lesson if screwed up. He could even take my child's life if I loved her more than I loved him, if I loved her too much. That's what god does, because he's a jealous god. My entire life, death, and afterlife could be punishments if he decided I needed them.<br />
<br />
<b>I am no longer afraid of missing god's plan for my life.</b> <i>I</i> make the plans for my life now. I take the responsibility, I pay the consequences, good and bad. No one is waiting to punish me for planning badly. <i>I'm not going to ruin my life if I don't hear god correctly and take a wrong step.</i> I'm in charge. If I screw up, I will try again. There are many different ways to live a successful life, I'm not fucked if I miss The One. There is no "hedge of thorns" sent to hem me in and bring me back to god's plan.<br />
<br />
<b>I'm no longer afraid of failing to be who god wants me to be.</b> I don't have to ask permission to be me. To follow my heart. To love whom I want to love. To be passionate about what matters to me. <i>I don't have to make sure my character fits someone else's idea of right. </i>I choose my values, who I want to be and what that looks like.<br />
<br />
<b>I am no longer afraid of what other people can do to me.</b> Of whether the ones I love and used to be dependent on will walk away, reject me, and break my heart. Because I realize now that giving my heart to them means they can hurt it, but they cannot ruin it. Only I can do that. I am not dependent on how others treat me for my validation or my success in life. I adore all the people that are part of my life, but my life is not dependent on them anymore. <i>I am no longer defenseless and powerless.</i><br />
<br />
<b>I am no longer afraid of the darkness in me.</b> That part of me that is just as much human as the light, happy parts. That part that scared people, that they taught me to fear. I am those things too, in all their rich glory, and they don't scare me anymore. <i>I don't have to deny the darkness exists or pray it away because it turns out it's not evil.</i> I know evil; and the anger, passion, depression, anxiety, rage, rain, storm, and shadows that reside in human nature are not it. I can be a whole person now.<br />
<br />
<b>I am no longer afraid of being happy.</b> It's OK to be utterly happy with myself and my life. It's OK to love and to live. It's OK to feel satisfied and enough. Conversely, it's OK to be sad. To be unhappy. To want more. To wish and not be OK with how things are.<i> I am no longer afraid of the entire range of human emotions.</i> They are not good or evil, they just are.<br />
<br />
<b>I am no longer afraid of my passion.</b> I am a passionate person, and that is perfectly OK. Though I still get shamed often for this, get sanctioned, invalidated, told I'm too much and not enough, told my passion doesn't belong or is misplaced, told to be quiet, be nice, sit down, shut up. <i>But since I no longer need validation from others, I am no longer afraid of my own passion or what others think about it.</i> I can shout from the rooftops or speak in whispers in quiet places, and it is enough and it is valid.<br />
<br />
I am no longer afraid of so many things, fears that have been a part of my life for as far back as I have memories. <i>And that changes a person.</i> It takes a huge weight off their shoulders that makes every aspect of their life lighter.<br />
<br />
So, yes, I <i>am</i> different these days. I am whole. I am unashamedly, gloriously me.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>And I am not afraid any more. </b><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-69540812763102930292015-10-18T20:34:00.000-07:002015-10-18T20:34:34.026-07:00In Which I Wonder Why <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I don't understand. Who tells a child the things that I was told? Who forms a child's self-concept in the worst way possible on purpose? What kind of person takes a sensitive, kind, loving, feeling child and tells them from birth that they are mean, bully, selfish, and unloving?<br />
<br />
<i>What kind of parent does that?</i><br />
<br />
Was I a threat? Did they feel the need to tear me down because I threatened something? Were they afraid of me somehow? Did they look at me and feel fear and thus were driven to squash who I am? Was who I am that scary? <br />
<br />
<i>Selfish, unloving, unfeeling, mean, bully, harsh, hostile, angry, unkind, moody, vengeful, unhappy, rebellious.</i> The words fill my head and keep coming, one after the other, all the words I was given as labels. All the words that they might as well have written in ink on my body as they were indelibly printed on my soul. But even permanent ink fades eventually and can be written over.<br />
<br />
<b>I am only recently discovering who I really am. <a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2014/11/i-will-not-be-erased.html" target="_blank">And I am not who they said I was.</a></b><br />
<br />
I am kind and generous. I am an empath. I feel others' emotions so deeply, like I am experiencing their pain in my own soul. I am a giver, I give til I have nothing left. I love with all that is within me. I am loyal to a fault.<br />
<br />
<b>But I am no doormat.</b> I do not accept what I am told without proof. I am also a warrior. I fight for the people I love, for every person I come across who can't fight for themselves. I stand up for what is right and that is interpreted as "hostile". It's not hostility, it's righteousness. It's strength. It's ferocity. <b>And it is who I am.</b><br />
<br />
I <i>am</i> rebellious. I will claim that label, of all the words they slung at me. Some things are worth rebelling against. Rebelling has saved my life. "There's something wild in your heart, you need to pray to God to help you." There <i>was</i> something wild there. There still is. Did that scare them? <i>Does it still?</i><br />
<br />
<i>What kind of person does that to a child?</i> What kind of person teaches another child to do this to their own sibling? What was it about me that scared them so?<br />
<br />
Whatever it was, they failed to eradicate it. Because here I am, in all my wild glory, and they can't do anything about it now, except keep trying to spread their lies and paint their own picture of me that I no longer recognize. Their picture of me looks suspiciously like their own self-portrait.<br />
<br />
Was it religion? I fucking hate religion. Religion said I needed my will broken, beaten down, and taken away. Religion said to squash my glory because their pathetic god would be jealous. Religion said they had to take my rights, my ownership, my boundaries, because those things were not from god. <b>Did religion make them try to break a child or did it just justify their own penchant toward insecurity and whatever the hell else was wrong with them?</b> I don't know. I might never know. Does it even matter? The damage has been done, the healing has long ago begun.<br />
<br />
As a parent, I look at my children in all their glory and life and I am completely baffled. The thought of telling them that they are inherently selfish with wicked hearts that need their foolishness driven out by the rod is painful enough to leave me breathless. <b>The idea that I could take such amazing creatures and make sure they know how worthless they are unless they become what I dictate they must be causes physical pain and revulsion in my heart.</b><br />
<br />
<i>What kind of person does that to a child?</i> I have no more excuses for them.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-45854383294010626002015-10-12T09:59:00.001-07:002015-10-12T09:59:52.143-07:00That Person Is Me <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="line-height: 19.32px;">A few friends posted a quote on Facebook last week:</span></div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="color: #666666; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.08px;">We have a God who sees hearts like we see faces, </span><span style="color: #666666; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.08px;">a God who hears ache like we hear voices, </span><span style="color: #666666; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.08px;">and we have a God who touches & holds & heals our wounds </span><span style="color: #666666; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.08px;">like we long to be held. ~Ann Voskamp</span></blockquote>
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It struck me as something I once would have said and felt. Once, it would've stirred up the proper emotions in my heart and comforted me, like it was designed to do.</div>
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I used to believe this. <i>With all my heart.</i> It was comforting. No matter what happened, from the time I was about 14 until 8 years ago, I held on to this "promise" with my life. It got me through some very difficult things. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<b>Until the god I thought saw me and cared for me, stopped</b>. Or maybe I just stopped being able to bullshit myself.</div>
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I can look back and see that the beginning of the end was when we lost our home to a fire 8 years ago, on October 22nd. God didn't save what little we had worked so hard for. He didn't help me find my wedding ring though I begged him, believed on faith he would help me find them, and dug through the ashes for a week. He let my babies' teddy bears and clothing and toys burn up; everything from the first 5 years of our lives together was gone. I praised him when our church got together and donated enough money for me to replace household goods and when they came with hammers to help us turn our garage into a home. </div>
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<b>B</b><span style="line-height: 19.32px;"><b>ut god didn't do those things, people did.</b> Good people, who probably would've done it even without god (some of them weren't even Christians, just neighbors, good human beings).</span></div>
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That was the day my belief in a loving god who heals my wounds began to die, <i>even against my will</i> because I tried so hard to keep believing. <b>It's symbolic how the ashes of my home became the ashes of my faith, me digging, trying to find something to salvage.</b> Eventually, as things got worse for us, all the cliches about why god was saying "no" and why bad things happen to us even when we obey him and have faith and work hard, didn't work for me anymore. </div>
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I sat thinking one day "what am I saying? I am bullshitting myself. This doesn't even make sense." And then I felt guilty because god hears your thoughts and he heard my lack of faith and maybe something bad would happen because of it. </div>
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<b>And then I got mad because how stupid is it to worry about god punishing you for being human?</b> I had so much internal conflict, as reason and honestly looking at what was happening in our life started breaking through the cliches and the religious bullshit. It didn't add up.</div>
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I tried, prayed, cried, had faith, claimed god's promises, read the scriptures, forced myself to believe that he had a plan and it was good and he loved me, for 5 more years after that. 5 years of struggling and depression and loneliness and barely surviving and paying the bills. Through family betrayal. Through losing my best friend. Through foreclosure on the new house we'd worked so hard on. Through old wounds being ripped open. Through packing everything we had left into a truck and trailer and moving 2 states away just to get a job. Through being alone with 2 toddlers and a new baby for weeks on end. </div>
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A little light came when we found a church with good people and they made us one of them and I had friends again and was leading worship again and loving it. Then the rejection after 2 years of throwing my life into these people, all because I believed the wrong things, like that gay people aren't sinners and god used evolution to create the world and women are equal to men. That was the end. I tried half-heartedly to visit other churches, but just couldn't do it. When my husband said he was done, no more church, I was relieved. I was tired of pretending that any of it mattered, or that I mattered to any all-seeing being who seemed unable to see me.</div>
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I wish sometimes I could still believe this and be comforted again.<b> But I can no longer do make-believe fairy tales, no matter how good they sound.</b> There is no deity out there who sees my heart or heals my wounds or cares about me personally. You know who does that? <i>People</i>. People like my husband, who has walked this road with me for 13 years now; people like many of you who read here, who though we've most of us never met, you still care about others on the other side of the computer screen; people like the new friend I'm making who hates religion and likes me; people like the various therapists who have shows empathy and understanding. </div>
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<b>People like me. I care. That person who cares about me and sees me....that person is me.</b></div>
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Some would be horrified at this, but to me, it's a relief. I don't have to go through mental gymnastics trying to figure out why shit happens, trying to convince myself that god has a plan for this shit, that it's divine shit, that I should be grateful for it, that god still loves me even though he's slinging shit at me (or allowing shit to be slung, depending on your theology). <i>Shit just happens.</i> There's no reason, usually. I didn't do anything wrong, I'm not the target of Satan, God isn't testing my faith, I don't have to pretend or try to convince myself of these illogical things anymore. These ridiculous cliches that people use to protest against doubt when, really, the doubt is right. </div>
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<i>And that's a huge relief.</i> I alone am responsible for taking that shit and slinging it back at the universe. For forging meaning and making love and being resilient and rising from the ashes.<i> That's on me.</i><b> I am not at the mercy of the whims of a god I've never met that I'm supposed to just trust cares about me, even when everything in my life says otherwise.</b> I can take control and make my own way and not look for someone to blame or someone to trust when life doesn't work. </div>
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<b>I write my story.</b> I decide where to go from here. That is, perhaps, the most comforting and freeing thing I've discovered so far.</div>
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<a href="http://stepchildofthesun.tumblr.com/post/24340203343/this-person-keeping-score-is-me-adam-savage" target="_blank">(photo credit)</a></div>
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Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-60976307552772077602015-09-13T21:23:00.002-07:002015-09-14T09:08:34.757-07:00Parenting Beyond Religion ~ How Do You Know?<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2pk-Ipcki6uyvotWNHKMja2K9SVlEmi8begM6mrmuDXE3cAtFaN8UpMPErHJSxjB34fi4v8eGtMiLMAv3c-uKvxJ8DnYIi41ubivNXhyphenhyphenhLxHav7iYWHvaaMJ8ZWRt3wOixroukNnaOEbG/s1600/untitled-4334.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2pk-Ipcki6uyvotWNHKMja2K9SVlEmi8begM6mrmuDXE3cAtFaN8UpMPErHJSxjB34fi4v8eGtMiLMAv3c-uKvxJ8DnYIi41ubivNXhyphenhyphenhLxHav7iYWHvaaMJ8ZWRt3wOixroukNnaOEbG/s320/untitled-4334.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I’m reading an excellent book right now called <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Parenting-Beyond-Belief-Raising-Religion-ebook/dp/B004PYDMCA/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1442203278&sr=1-1&keywords=parenting+beyond+belief" target="_blank">Parenting Beyond Belief</a></i>. It’s a collection of essays written by various people on
parenting without religion and covers multiple topics related to parenting. One
of the chapters stuck me as particularly useful given what my children and I
have been discussion lately. The chapter was a letter written my Richard Dawkins to his
daughter when she was 10. I found an online copy <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1nfWyRx2dLpeOeHjZ0IxepeFSIgVvA2eDMnrEvjQEWmU/edit?pli=1" target="_blank">here</a> and discovered it’s been
passed around for a while now.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dawkins starts by saying “Have you ever wondered how we know
the things that we know? How do we know, for instance, that the stars, which
look like tiny pinpricks in the sky, are really huge balls of fire like the Sun
and very far away? And how do we know that the Earth is a smaller ball whirling
round one of those stars, the Sun? The answer to these questions is ‘evidence’.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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He talks about three very wrong reasons for believing anything:
<i>tradition, authority, and revelation.</i> I’m not going to talk about those today
but I would encourage you to read the article as it is very good and helpful
even if you aren’t a parent.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The question of evidence and proof is something I’ve
been talking to my kids about lately. How do we know if something that someone
tells us is true? Well, we ask for evidence. Tradition is not evidence.
Revelation from someone’s god or goddess is not evidence. An authority figure
saying so is not evidence. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>So the most important question I am teaching my children
to ask when told something is true is “How do you know?”</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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My 4<sup>th</sup> grader came home last week saying a little
girl in her class said that the world was going to end on September 27<sup>th</sup>
because it would be hit by an asteroid. K, my daughter, was a bit concerned but
still didn’t think that sounded quite right. So we got to have a great
discussion about how to tell whether something is the truth or not. It went
like this:<o:p></o:p></div>
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K: “Mom, Sarah said that the world is going to end on the 27<sup>th</sup>
because of an asteroid.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Me: “K., did you ask her how she knows this?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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K: “Yes, she said her mom said so.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Me: “And how did her mom know?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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K: “Because she looked it up on the internet.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Me: “And is everything on the internet true?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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K: “Well, no.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Me: “So what should you ask if someone says something like
that to you?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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K: “You should ask them to prove it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then the rest of the kids and I talked about The Most
Important Question: <i>“How do you know?”</i> And we applied it to all kinds of
things, which got interesting when they discovered the Tooth Fairy isn’t real,
which I didn’t actually know they didn’t know, but that’s another story.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We talked about how Moms can be wrong, so Sarah’s mom saying
it doesn’t mean it’s right. We found a story on the internet about how a man
said that God told him the asteroid would hit the earth on the 27<sup>th</sup>.
I explained how that’s “revelation” and not a good reason to believe anyone and how he has no evidence for this at all. If
the man has no evidence, then he could be lying or fooled or crazy. <b>If the only
answer to “how do you know?” is “God/Odin/Zeus told me”, that’s not good
enough.</b> <o:p></o:p></div>
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This is a very basic way to explain to children how to ask
questions and think through assertions. It empowers them to not only think
critically but to not fear every time someone tells them unbelieving people go
to hell, Jesus is coming to destroy the earth, or Yellowstone is going to
explode. Critical thinking doesn’t have to mean diving into books on Socratic
questioning or learning logic equations. It can be as simple and profound as
teaching a child to ask “how do you know?” and to demand a good answer. Teaching
them from a very young age good and bad reasons for believing something. Be warned: You will have to step up your game. No, you don't have to know everything and it's OK to answer with "I don't know". A good follow-up would be "But let's find out!" Teaching kids to question means being willing to question yourself. Don't worry, it's good for us. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Can you imagine a world full of kids who are taught to
question like this? High-schools full of teens who were raised to demand
evidence and thoughtfulness? Colleges full of adults to whom critical thinking
skills are daily used and expected? It’s not that religious parents can’t teach
this to their children, it’s that they don’t. Because usually these questioning
skills are a threat to a dearly held belief system based on tradition,
authority, and revelation. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I can’t help but think how many adults need to hear Dawkins’
message and how much better off the world would be if they did. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I'll end with this quote from Dawkins:</div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
What can we do about all this? It is not easy for you to do
anything, because you are only ten. But you could try this. Next time somebody
tells you something that sounds important, think to yourself: ‘Is this the kind
of thing that people probably know because of evidence? Or is it the kind of
thing that people only believe because of tradition, authority or revelation?’
And, next time somebody tells you that something is true, why not say to them:
‘What kind of evidence is there for that?’ And if they can’t give you a good
answer, I hope you’ll think very carefully before you believe a word they say.</blockquote>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-28507549206659437612015-06-29T13:47:00.001-07:002015-10-29T21:43:26.926-07:00Parenting Beyond Religion ~How I Answer the Difficult Questions <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi57vZtV5oH_KEy9WI-vCuj80sG16URRSAJObhbhbXDEit0F8AexjS8KbRUPA3rC8CRUOmbxztEPf_DM_adsZoo-3U7_8YdmWW7tJwdLyohkc_cEwXLnptJNLi2FXpvYAy9vcjpOW7tqxBb/s1600/untitled-3557.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi57vZtV5oH_KEy9WI-vCuj80sG16URRSAJObhbhbXDEit0F8AexjS8KbRUPA3rC8CRUOmbxztEPf_DM_adsZoo-3U7_8YdmWW7tJwdLyohkc_cEwXLnptJNLi2FXpvYAy9vcjpOW7tqxBb/s320/untitled-3557.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I have a lot of people ask me these days, "how do you parent without religion? How do you talk to your kids about why we don't go to church anymore? How do you explain your beliefs to them? How do you answer their questions?"<br />
<br />
These are interesting questions, usually asked by other ex-Christian parents who are struggling with the idea that all the answers they used to have have been pulled out from under them. <b>"For the Bible tells me so" is no longer the answer to everything from "why is lying bad?" to "what happens when you die?"</b> Suddenly, we're forced to think deeper, to be purposeful, and to challenge ourselves. We don't get to play the God card anymore.<br />
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I can't speak for everyone who has been through the deconversion process with their family, but I can explain my own experiences and how I've approached parenting differently these days.<br />
<br />
In the beginning of our journey, about 3 years ago, <a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2013/04/on-being-church-misfits.html" target="_blank">we left a toxic church</a>. This was difficult for my kids, who were very young, because it meant losing their friends and social group. Even though we tried to stay in touch with those whom we were close to, it's just not the same when you don't see them 3 times a week and don't share the beliefs they hold dear. ("Friendship by proximity" is what my friend Sam called these relationships, not implying that they aren't genuine but that they are upheld by proximity, as are many other friendships, such as from a job or other social group). They missed the children's church and the potlucks and the singing and activities. They also missed the routine. They asked a lot of questions about why we don't go to church and why we can't go see some of their friends anymore. I avoided these at first, because I was hurting from betrayal and rejection and seeing my kids' pain and confusion was just another knife in my heart. I also just didn't know how to answer them, to explain that I still believed in God, but had no idea what else I may or may not believe it. That I wasn't sure where I was going on my own spiritual journey. And how do you explain things like triggers and panic attacks due to my past to children? Eventually though I had to be honest and explain as best as I could.<br />
<br />
That first conversation, initiated by my daughter, K (who was 7) went like this:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
K: "Mom, why don't we go to church anymore? I miss church."</blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Me: "K., we had to leave that church because we were no longer welcome because we disagreed with some things they were teaching that we feel are wrong and hurtful. We haven't found another church that doesn't teach these wrong things so we decided to stay home and do fun family things instead."</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
K: "Like what kind of bad things to they teach, Mom?"</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Me: "Well, like that women can't do things just because they are women....."</blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
K, interrupting: "What?! That's stupid. That's an Old Times belief. Girls can do and be whatever they want today, so can boys."</blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Me, suppressing a smile: "Yes, but the church we left didn't believe that, didn't like that we believed something different, and we didn't want to raise our kids in a church that tells boys and girls who they must be and how they must act because of their gender." </blockquote>
<br />
That was the beginning of a series of conversations that we had about a few beliefs that I didn't think were healthy and that were keeping us from church. I kept it as simple as I could and they haven't asked about church in a long time. Their lives are now full of school and friends and family adventures. <br />
<br />
Recently, they've begun to ask deeper questions about God, life, behavior, values, afterlife, science, and philosophy. These have been interesting for me, and, I admit, scary as it is completely new territory. <i>Whereas before I would answer "we don't lie because it is sin", now I have be more thoughtful and pragmatic in presenting my values and ethics to them. *I* have to understand the "why" before I can help them understand.</i><br />
<br />
When asked point-blank whether God exists or not, I have explained various viewpoints, including other gods and goddesses in the list of "what people believe". <b>I am very honest in explaining that we cannot prove that any god exists, but that people chose to have faith in one god or many, for many different reasons.</b> I try to stress the difference between scientific proof/knowledge and faith, and how these things are compatible and how they are not. I often answer with "this is what we know and can prove, this is what we don't, this is what some people believe" and asking them "what do *you* think?" <i>Because someday they're going to choose for themselves what they believe and I have no desire to dictate that to them.</i> Not by conditioning them now while they are young or prejudicing them toward or against one belief system or another. <b>I care only that they are good, strong, ethical people, who are critical thinkers and intelligent, not that they worship Jesus or Odin or no one.</b><br />
<br />
Kids are smart and vastly underestimated. <b>Kids who aren't told what to believe, who aren't scared by hell fire into accepting a system they are too young to understand, and who are taught how to think are really fun to have deep conversations with.</b> They know they can ask me anything and <i>I'll answer them as honestly as I can and have no problem saying "I don't know, what do you think?".</i> I have no agenda to make sure they have The Right beliefs or none at all. They are and will always be free to chose any faith or none, THAT is the gift I want to give them now as I raise them to be free-thinkers. It was not a gift ever given to me as a child. The only thing that would ever disappoint me is if they chose a faith system that devalues them and other humans. And yet, I'm not all that worried. They are strong thinkers, science-minded, emotionally healthy, with hearts full of discovery and empathy. I could be wrong but I can't see them throwing out those instilled and natural values, but rather bringing them into whatever faith they choose.<br />
<br />
<b>Raising thinking children means being a thinking parent.</b> It means no cliches, no pad answers, no dismissing. This is really hard, not gonna lie. It goes against everything I once was and once believed. It's meant re-training my habits and reactions and thought-processes in order to be more true to myself and more honest with my kids. <b>It means being fearless in my thoughts and my answers to their questions, being vulnerable, being uncomfortable, admitting wrong, being honest and open.</b> But I find myself at peace with the relationship I have with my own beliefs and with my children. This is a journey, one I'm sure we'll be on for a long time yet. <i>But we're on it together,</i> forging a connection and trust, even if I don't always know how to answer their questions. <br />
<br />
And, really, that's the most important thing.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-17388566436327835192015-05-22T21:43:00.000-07:002015-05-22T21:43:15.608-07:00On Forgiveness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Forgiveness.<br />
<br />
I'm having a difficult time with this concept. I know in my world, it meant "you nicely forget everything bad that was done to you and never bring it up again or treat the other person different because, they're forgiven. As far as the east is from the west." It was like the magic eraser of all wrong-doing. And you didn't have a choice in the matter. <i>If you didn't forgive someone, God wouldn't forgive you.</i> You'd allow a "root of bitterness" to spring up in your heart, "give the Devil a foothold" and suddenly Satan had a stronghold in your soul from which he could reign terror over your life. Didn't matter what the offense was, they were all equal in the sight of God and all needed to be forgiven and you certainly aren't perfect so who are you to withhold forgiveness and cast stones. That one time I lied pretty much negated any right I had to be angry at my sister for stealing from me or angry at my mom for manipulating me. Being angry at someone who sinned against you wasn't allowed because that meant you hadn't truly forgiven them. Remembering what they'd done and avoiding them or treating them differently because of it wasn't true forgiveness either.<br />
<br />
<b>No matter how much I try, I cannot help but see the concept of forgiveness as a means by which you enable people to hurt you</b>. A means that abusers and toxic people use to control you and be sure you never talk about what they did to you. All wrapped up in a neat package with the label of "For The Bible Tells Me So".<br />
<br />
Since becoming an adult, I have only seen forgiveness used to hide serious evil against other human beings. <i>Abuse of every kind is covered up by the world "you must forgive them".</i> And victims are silenced and suffer alone, feeling like they are the ones who failed when they cannot help but be angry or sad at how someone has treated them. They are not allowed to be angry at someone who abused them because "no one is perfect".<br />
<br />
As far as I can tell though, forgiveness from a Judeo-Christian perspective, as far back as the Old Law, was not anything like what the church preaches today. It was really more of a legal definition. That whole eye for an eye thing? <i>It's talking about natural retribution.</i> Payment for a debt owed. If someone hurt you or stole from you, <i>they owed you and you had the right to retribution, to make them pay.</i> Forgiveness was about debt. Not about saying "it's OK, I'll forget this ever happened and we'll all feel loving again". <b>No, it was more like, "I will not enact retribution for this action. I will not take what is owed me."</b> Now that I can get behind. ('Course Christians claim that Jesus came along and changed all that and that's where it gets a little murky in the area of definitions and practicality.)<br />
<br />
And yet....<i>some actions demand retribution</i>. They demand a debt be paid. This is how our legal system works. You kill or steal or destroy, you pay. It's how all human institutions have functioned throughout all history. Wrong-doing demands retribution. <i>Whether or not a person chooses to forgive that debt that is owed, and how they choose to do so, is completely up to them. No one can demand that from them.</i> And it has nothing whatsoever to do with forgetting what was done or demanding that someone not feel a certain emotion for it or treat the evil-doer as they would someone who had not enacted evil against them. This is not only unhealthy, it is dangerous.<br />
<br />
I am so sick and tired of people playing the forgiveness card. The manipulation is disgusting. And the control that it has over so many people thanks to religion is abhorant. "Forgive" a child molester? Um, no. That's a debt that legally must be paid so others are protected. Whether the child demands retribution for that evil against them or not is up to the child and does not affect how the rest of the world treats a person who commits such atrocity.<br />
<br />
People need to stop hiding behind the modern Christian view of forgiveness, stop trying to coerce people into shutting up for Jesus. <i>Stop telling children that if they feel revulsion and hatred for a person who molested them then God won't forgive them and their lives will be ruined.</i> <b>That kind of forgiveness can never be a choice. It will always be coercion.</b> Those kids who were abused deserve to enact retribution. They deserve to feel whatever they want to feel. They deserve to say "No, I don't forgive you for this pain". <b>And they deserve the choice of when or if any amount of release of that debt happens in their own hearts, regardless of what justice must be enacted on their behalf.</b><br />
<br />
We deserve to be angry. To be filled with rage. To not let abusers off the hook because they pulled the forgiveness card. We deserve the choice to determine how we handle wrong-doing against us....without coercion or guilt-trips or religious platitudes. We should not be told that we cannot judge an atrocity because "he apologized"and "you're not perfect either". (One nice thing about not being a christian anymore is that I don't have to believe that the one time I stole five dollars from my dad is just as bad as Josh Duggar molesting his sisters. Judge him I certainly will.) <br />
<br />
And the next person who tells me "let he who is without sin cast the first stone" is going to get some rocks chucked at them.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-65020282276546927142015-04-05T12:00:00.000-07:002015-04-05T12:00:11.869-07:00Easter Through Our Eyes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4dhXu8z-NoUF36HEtlRjcbiCjDIjJ_wJX6JvPIB2efdHrIjhdTxWwehEwNhDBsCCMrbPFb02WzvUnsy3kG7vVxo-0aOZFRXtLgQeYYO2-cRIbP12B-V3Lc96IymGpxTUWtQNt2xCpERgX/s1600/IMG_1944.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4dhXu8z-NoUF36HEtlRjcbiCjDIjJ_wJX6JvPIB2efdHrIjhdTxWwehEwNhDBsCCMrbPFb02WzvUnsy3kG7vVxo-0aOZFRXtLgQeYYO2-cRIbP12B-V3Lc96IymGpxTUWtQNt2xCpERgX/s1600/IMG_1944.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Death to life</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Darkness to light</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Evening to morning</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Winter to spring</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Despair to hope</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></b></i>
<i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Over and over and over again, from the beginning we never saw to the end we will never see.</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></b></i>
<i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">This is who we are, what we do, what we obverse, what we grieve, what we celebrate. Like everyone who came before us and those who will come after us, our lives march to the rhythm of these things. </span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></b></i>
<i><b><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Peace to you all today as you celebrate this circle of life in whichever way you prefer.</span></b></i><br />
<br />
<br />
I wrote those words on Facebook this morning, trying to present another perspective in a sea of "He is risen" posts, trying to honor all my friends who choose today to honor life in their own ways.<br />
<br />
A friend immediately sent me a note thanking me for writing an Easter status that wasn't triggering.<br />
<br />
Another friend was chatting with me, sitting in a coffee shop after she tried to go to church this morning and just couldn't. "People need to know that there are other people hurt by the church", she said.<br />
<br />
<i>People need to know.</i><br />
<br />
They need to know that many of my friends have avoided Facebook all weekend because the blatant religiosity causes them physical pain.<br />
<br />
They need to know that watching the people who inflicted that pain post sanctimonious scriptures about death and resurrection is like a knife in the heart.<br />
<br />
<b>They need to know that many are missing family gatherings today because they are no longer an accepted part of a family that cries "He is risen!" yet rejects their own in His Name.</b><br />
<br />
They need to know that people like me can't sit in a church service or in a group of Christians arguing about pagan holidays and what day Jesus was crucified because both cause panic attacks.<br />
<br />
They need to know that when we watch them post about how gay people don't deserve pizza and wedding cakes, then turn around and post about how Jesus died for them and is risen, all we can think is <i>"Who gives a shit that your god is risen when you can't even bother to treat others as human beings? What good is your god and your faith then?"</i><br />
<br />
They need to know that many, so many, people whom they claim their savior died for are hurting today <i>because of them</i>. Because of Christians. Because of church. Because of teachings that taught them they are worthless without god, that their worthlessness killed god, that the only thing keeping his wrath against them in check is the torture and blood of an innocent. <i>"Alas and did my savior bleed and did my sovereign die? Would he devote his sacred head for such a worm as I?"</i> Because "come as you are, open to all" is usually a lie as some of us know that far too well.<br />
<br />
I know it's hard to imagine that something that gives you such joy can cause others horrific pain. That this isn't a happy day for so many people. Some of those others want so badly to get the same joy out of your faith as you do. But they can't. Maybe someday they will be able to, maybe never again. It's hard to imagine that your faith you love so dearly isn't the answer for everyone. That when you insist it is, you can hurt more than help.<br />
<br />
<b>But this day, right now, there are people hurting as a direct result of the church caring too much about how well people celebrate a day on the calender and not enough about who has been kicked out, abused, forgotten, and shunned.</b> Told it was their fault. Told they deserved it. Given a To-Do list to finish before they are accepted back. Lost their family because of religion. Told God wants them to suffer for their perceived sins. Told they are not good enough for community. Made an outcast. Told what was done to them by Christians was sanctioned by God.<br />
<br />
<i>Is it any wonder so many are hiding and avoiding social media and celebratory gatherings today? </i><br />
<br />
I wrote <a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2014/08/a-time-to-search-and-time-to-give-up.html" target="_blank">this</a> once:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"No matter how hard I try, the abusive religion I grew up immersed in will always be there in the scars on my heart, screaming louder as I try to silence them in order to think. I'm so very tired of the struggle.</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
If you've managed to find a God that isn't abusive, kudos to you. I can't find Him. I only see what people do in his name, I only feel the fear of being a child afraid of hell and afraid of God, the overwhelming disgust at all the things I have felt and heard and said and done and wept about because of him."</blockquote>
<br />
When mentions of Easter and death and sin bring up flashbacks of abuse masked in religiosity, telling people "not all Churches" isn't going to help. Leaving your church pew in search of them, not to preach, but to sit and listen and just be, without ulterior motive or agenda....that would help far more. If you want to show "not all Christians" it will have to be with actions not words. It will have to be on other days too, not just this one. <i>"He is risen" written all over Facebook and spoken from pulpits today can't erase the ugly that was said done all the previous weeks.</i><br />
<br />
People need to know. <br />
<br />
<br />Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-83806795879407085802015-03-23T13:23:00.001-07:002015-03-28T19:44:07.023-07:00Emotional Purity and Courtship: A Few Years Later<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjagnvi5bAuZDwX56HB6BNO7DbjdivRAM6-teoL-HUut4IuyM0t0i1xd16TpsueB-kLdGbrdWHxBgL4nPqWSZxgNXUDbhLRWlndorWHHR91WRsgv17xU7NwPjlmaO4nhZPsZ2kBtszkkwD/s1600/untitled-0519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjagnvi5bAuZDwX56HB6BNO7DbjdivRAM6-teoL-HUut4IuyM0t0i1xd16TpsueB-kLdGbrdWHxBgL4nPqWSZxgNXUDbhLRWlndorWHHR91WRsgv17xU7NwPjlmaO4nhZPsZ2kBtszkkwD/s1600/untitled-0519.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
Four years ago, when I was beginning to process my life
story and to critically think through the things I had been taught, believed,
and practiced growing up in homeschool culture, I wrote a piece called <i><a href="http://www.darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2011/01/how-teachings-of-emotional-purity-and.html" target="_blank">“How TheTeachings of Emotional Purity and Courtship Damage Healthy Relationships”</a></i>. It
was just my thoughts on the courtship movement and teachings about emotional
purity that had dominated mine and my friends’ teen years. I had no idea it
would be my most popular post ever, that it would still be read 4 years later
and re-posted by thousands of people. I’m glad it’s helped and given clarity to
so many stuck in that system. I never dreamed it would be so popular or that my
experience was shared by so many until the comments started rolling in with
stories just like mine.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I read back over it today as it popped up yet again in my
Facebook feed, remembering where I was when I wrote it. I still agree with some
of what I wrote back then, but my journey has been so vast since that time. Covered
so much space. I suppose blogging is much like journaling in that respect, only
in public where you can all see my thoughts and the evolution of my soul.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In my original post, I argued three negative outcomes that
often are the result of the teachings of emotional purity. I spoke from still
inside the paradigm of Christianity, using scriptural ideas and assuming Christianity
as a framework for my thoughts. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But, like most journeys, <i>you never stay in the same place</i>. You
might come back around to it eventually or you might leave never to return. The
me of 4 years ago that wrote about how God doesn’t do formulas is not the me of
today.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>The me of today doesn’t believe I need to use God to justify
my choices.</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve done that my whole life....used scripture and God and
“God’s will” to make decisions and defend them to everyone who thought I was
wrong or had an opinion about me. And no matter what the choice was or how well
I defended it “from scripture” someone always thought it was wrong. <i>Because
they too could defend their belief about my wrongness from scripture.</i> It always
turned into a “who has better hermeneutics” war, which I often won, given my
upbringing steeped in knowledge of the Bible and Bible interpretation. <b>But what
I didn’t realize for so long is that all these mental and scriptural gymnastics
were unnecessary.</b> Even from a Christian stand-point, it really wasn’t anyone
else’s business telling me what God wanted from me. In that belief system, we
were supposed to “hear God for ourselves” and discern His will on our own (unless
of course we were of the persuasion that our parents did that for us).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the most important point and perspective comes now from
outside that theoretical framework. From a more humanistic one that says that
<i>all people have value and innate human rights</i>. <b>Among those rights are right to
live, to love, to choose, and to not be controlled and manipulated by others;
</b>our value not determined by them and how well we followed the rules. <b>The same
rights our parents took for themselves when they chose to go against the rules
and the status quo and live their lives their way were denied to us.</b> In the
Name of their God. With Biblical justification. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://homeschoolersanonymous.wordpress.com/2015/03/22/the-courtship-that-wasnt-darcys-story/" target="_blank">I wrote my courtship story</a> in brief for <a href="https://homeschoolersanonymous.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">HomeschoolersAnonymous’</a> courtship series. My conclusion of that entire fiasco is also my
thoughts on what I wrote four years ago on the subject:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
“I read my journals and even the story I wrote out 6 years
ago, and I am angered. <i>I should not have had to use God to justify my choices.</i>
I should not have had to invoke His will for my life, to try to convince my
parents that I knew my own mind and could “hear God for myself”. I should not
have had to field emotional abuse and manipulation and spiritual control of my
mind and heart and body. I should not have had to flee home just to get away
from them and find peace. <i>I was an adult, that should have been enough to make
my own choices.</i> But in our world, it was not. <b>In the world for which courtship
was invented, the ultimate sin was rebellion against God’s order of authority,
against what your parents wanted for you, and choosing to walk on your own amid
cries of “rebellion”</b>. In this world, men could not be trusted and women were
assets to be controlled, and the two could only meet under many layers of rules
meant to keep us dependent on our authorities, despising of our own desires,
and mistrusting of our own hearts and minds. It has always amazed me how two
people who were declared not mature enough to conduct a relationship without supervision
and under extreme outside constraint could somehow be mature enough to begin a
marriage.<br />
<br />
It took me until about 4 years ago to finally stop making
spiritual-sounding excuses for why we conducted a secret relationship, why we
rejected courtship, why we did everything “wrong” and against my parents’ will; to stop trying to get anyone listening to acknowledge the legitimacy of our
choices by invoking God’s will.<br />
<br />
<b>To finally simply declare, “Because it was what we wanted
and we had that right”.</b><br />
Such a basic idea yet so foreign to those of us who are
refugees from the homeschooling movement. <b>We have that right....the right to
love, to choose, to live. </b>To not have our adult choices dictated by another,
our autonomy robbed in the name of “because God says so”, coerced by ideologies
that left us no real choice because “do this or suffer hell” is not a real
choice. It was what we wanted. <i>And that should have been enough</i>.”</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do I still think that these teachings cause “pride, shame,
and dysfunction”, as I wrote years ago? Sure. <b>But I think those things are far less important than the idea that our
human rights were violated.</b> That we were taught to allow them to be
violated from a very young age. <i>That we were assets to be controlled and not
people in our own right.</i> That idea, far above all the rest, is far more
damaging in my mind these days. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A loving relationship between two autonomous human beings,
on our terms, was what we wanted. <i>And that should have been enough.</i> The
teachings of courtship and emotional purity stole that from us and we let them
because we had been convinced that “God wants this from you”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>And that remains
the biggest problem of all.</b> <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-86275933671397516722015-03-20T10:04:00.000-07:002015-03-21T15:28:50.073-07:00Thoughts on Christian Marriage Teachings ~Part 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7jt_iReFuHPPYUmh7H5YKotcLFn7xzkB6XMT_TiKV2T2WM8uT17TIL-pZZC-KMKDf1POygx86ibtyvXr8Jv9Eeml5HyLzZFJt-zmzf80sZ8FVOyMB4VA59Ra8RemrJipj1c25T8Qa4dZW/s1600/dsc_5337-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7jt_iReFuHPPYUmh7H5YKotcLFn7xzkB6XMT_TiKV2T2WM8uT17TIL-pZZC-KMKDf1POygx86ibtyvXr8Jv9Eeml5HyLzZFJt-zmzf80sZ8FVOyMB4VA59Ra8RemrJipj1c25T8Qa4dZW/s1600/dsc_5337-001.jpg" height="320" width="214" /></a></div>
I can't talk about bad Christian marriage teachings without addressing one of the most common ones that tends to lead to all the rest of them. It goes something like this:<br />
<br />
<i>"The husband is the head of the family. He is the spiritual leader. He is responsible for the spiritual life and growth of his wife and children. God's blessings to the family come through the husband and father who is connected to God. A man out of sync with God can take down his family. A woman submits to God by submitting to her husband's leadership. A woman cannot usurp her husband's spiritual leadership or God will not bless the family. "</i><br />
<br />
There's variations of those sentiments, but that's about the gist of it. A family cannot be a godly family, or a successful family, without the spiritual leadership of a godly man. The requirements for such a man are numerous and many words have been written and spoken and debated about them. Everything from "must lead family worship every day" to "must be active in the church" to "must lead his wife with the Word of God".<br />
<br />
It is clear from most Christian marriage books, conferences, and counseling material that when the man fails in his duty of spiritual leader, the family will also fail. Failure to lead spiritually is the root of all manner of dysfunction and sin in a family. This has caused a lot of women much heartache as they call into Christian radio programs or sit crying with their pastors over their husband's behavior and character flaws. His sin? "Not being a spiritual leader." <a href="http://www.familylife.com/articles/topics/marriage/staying-married/wives/how-can-i-motivate-my-husband-to-get-right-with-god-and-become-the-spiritual-leader-of-our-family#.VQuI1NLF9k4" target="_blank">Consider this article</a> from <i>Family Life Today</i>, a program that is considered solid Christian family material, whose founders do marriage conferences around the U.S.:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"How can I motivate my husband to get right with God and become the spiritual leader of our family? This question represents the longing of many wives who are growing in their faith but are married to men whose Christian growth seems stagnant or who seem unwilling to take the spiritual lead in the family. If one of these represents your situation, realize that you are not alone."</blockquote>
The article goes on to showcase the various popular teachings on what a husband is expected to do and what happens when he isn't following through. It also goes into the expectations of a wife whose husband is failing at leading. And, in a very predictable manner, blames the wife for her husband's shortcomings. Because that's how it always ends up in this paradigm: the wife wasn't submissive enough, or godly enough, or giving enough sex, or being spiritual enough, or being quiet and meek enough, or she usurped his authority and dared to lead for a bit, and THAT'S why her husband isn't doing her job. <i>"...carefully evaluate if you are inhibiting your husband's spiritual leadership by taking the lead yourself....[if] he is instinctively looking to you to set the spiritual atmosphere in the home because of your experience or your spiritual maturity, you may actually be robbing him of the opportunity to become the leader God desires."</i> Oh noes. Men's leadership abilites are apparently so fragile as to disappear altogether if the wife doesn't submit properly. It doesn't matter if she is actually better equipped than he is, it's his job and she better not do it, for the sake of their family's spiritual status.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://family.custhelp.com/app/answers/detail/a_id/25743/~/how-do-i-spiritually-lead-my-family%3F" target="_blank">In another article</a> by <i>Focus on the Family</i>, entitled "How Do I Spiritually Lead My Family?", the author explains:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Naturally, there is a great deal of controversy in the church today surrounding the precise meaning of these words. Some husbands wonder, “What am I supposed to do – act like a preacher?” Some wives ask, “Why is he supposed to be the only spiritual leader? Why can’t we both do it?” In the end, it all comes down to a very simple and fundamental truth: families need leaders. The buck has to stop somewhere if the household is to function smoothly and efficiently." </blockquote>
He then goes on to give out some basic qualifications on what this looks like practically, such as "he must have a strong connection with his Heavenly Father, finding his happiness in Christ first, realizing that he can lead effectively only if he maintains an intimate relationship with the Lord."<br />
<br />
When you get into popular theologians like John Piper and John MacArthur, you get even more specific and deeper into the murk of the teachings on male spiritual leadership. <a href="http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/the-marks-of-a-spiritual-leader" target="_blank">Piper says</a>,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I define spiritual leadership as knowing where God wants people to be and taking the initiative to use God's methods to get them there in reliance on God's power...If we would be the kind of leaders we ought to be, we must make it our aim to develop persons rather than dictate plans. You can get people to do what you want, but if they don't change in their heart you have not led them spiritually. You have not taken them to where God wants them to be." </blockquote>
His following list of how to benevolently dictate the lives of everyone under him in the name of God is very long and tedious and I would imagine looks a bit overwhleming to your average husband, father, and church-leader<br />
<br />
<a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2012/04/complementarian-teachings-hurt-men-too.html" target="_blank">I once shared this:</a><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"What I didn't realize until recently was just how much my husband was hurting from these teachings. I remember going to church without him one week years ago and listening to a guest speaker rail on the men for not being better leaders, better husbands, and better fathers. (This was his usual sermon when he visited.) How I wished my husband had been there! I confess I thought he could use a good ass-whipping to be the man he wasn't being (and since I was trying to be the perfect submissive wife, I certainly couldn't give it to him). When I told him later who spoke, he muttered under his breath "Another guilt-trip for not being a good enough man. Oh yay." That hit me hard." </blockquote>
<b>I was so convinced that our marriage wasn't working, our family was falling apart, and I was being stunted spiritually all because my husband wasn't interested in spiritual matters.</b> At least, not to the extent that everyone said he should be. I was the woman in the article I posted first, from <i>Family Life Today</i>, wringing my hands because the man who was supposed to be in control of not only my physical life, but my spiritual growth, wasn't doing his job. <b>I was stuck.</b> I felt hopeless. <i>I had no concept at all that I could be in control of my own spiritual growth or that of my children, no concept of autonomy or agency. </i><br />
<br />
And this brings me to one of the biggest problems with these teachings. <i>They cause women to be stuck.</i> If your man is supposed to be your leader but he's not leading, and if blessings from God are supposed to come through your man but he's not doing his job to get the blessings, and if you are told that you must always submit and always respect and never usurp his authority by leading your family yourself because that's Satan tempting Eve, <i>then what is a woman to do</i>? Well, <b>she manipulates</b>. <b><i>She jumps through hoops to grovel to her husband's position over her while still passive-aggressively manipulating her man to do what she wants him to. </i></b>The much-revered book on marriage, <i><a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/lovejoyfeminism/created-to-be-his-help-meet" target="_blank">Created to Be His Helpmeet</a></i>, is an entire book on how a woman can manipulate her man to do what she and God wants while still being a submissive "godly woman". <b>It becomes the only option left.</b> Real communication cannot happen in such an atmosphere.<br />
<br />
Women are inferior in this paradigm because they cannot lead themselves but must depend on a man -- a man who is naturally superior in position and spirituality. Though no complementarian teacher will admit this and many protest against the idea, there is no way to operate within this worldview without spiritual and physical inequality between the sexes. They say things like "equal in value but not equal in role". <a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2012/05/youre-not-being-insulted-youre-being.html" target="_blank">They can try to redefine "value" all they want but it doesn't change the practicality that women are inferior in this teaching. </a><br />
<br />
The fact of the matter is, <b>no one is responsible for me except me</b>. No one is my "spiritual leader". <b>I am my own person with my own beliefs and my own journey and NONE of that is dependent on my husband.</b> Because he is his own person with his own journey too and that's not dependent on me. <i>We walk our own paths even as we have chosen to walk together.</i> To say that a marriage can only work if the husband is the spiritual leader is ridiculous. Look outside this narrow worldview for one moment and see all the marriages that have worked and are working splendidly without a male leader. Or with the wife leading. Or with one or both of them atheists and no spirituality whatsoever. Or with equal partnerships. <a href="http://krwordgazer.blogspot.com/2012/03/what-does-christian-egalitarian.html" target="_blank">Or in Egalitarian Christian marriages</a>. Or in any number of variables and beliefs and situations. Look outside the confines of the cages built by the Complementarian leadership of the American Church and breathe free air for a minute. Then tell me I should go back to a system that says I can't be anything without my husband's leadership. That my children will go to hell because he doesn't go to church or lead prayer or ever talk about God with them, regardless of whether he is a good husband and good father. That it's probably all my fault the formula isn't working because it's always the wife's fault in this paradigm when her husband isn't doing his job.<br />
<br />
I watch as conservative religious friends go to various marriage seminars where they are instructed on how to have a good marriage within the confines of complementarian teachings. They come back all fired up and high off repenting for not being submissive enough and not being loving enough. But it never lasts. And after a while, back they go to another conference to have it instilled yet again how to operate their relationship in forced, gendered, hierarchical ways. Some manage to last, many don't. It's no wonder to me that marriages in these confines need so much encouragement, so many books, yet another conference. <i>Because this type of relationship is not sustainable.</i> Not in a healthy way, not for very long.<br />
<br />
Now contrast everything I wrote above with how my marriage is now, years after giving up the teachings of male spiritual leadership. We are equal partners. <b>We are free to use our strengths for the growth of our family without worrying that I'm not being submissive enough or he's not being leaderly enough.</b> I can call him out when he's being unreasonable and he can tell me when I'm being a butthead and <b>we can set up boundaries to ensure healthy communication and actions without some weird hierarchical paradigm within which we to try to manipulate each other.</b> We are individual, separate, independent people who adore doing life together and are<i> free to do that in a way that works best for us</i>. I am strong and free to operate my own life and he is free from the burden of treating me as child that needs his direction. We offer each other support, wisdom, criticism, trust, respect, and love. We are not bound by gender roles that force us into unnatural ways of being. We are free. So very free, to be ourselves for each other and for our children. And it is a beautiful thing to behold. Because where freedom lives, love can grow in leaps and bounds.<br />
<br />
<b>Once again, giving up saved our marriage. </b>And we didn't even need a marriage conference to do it.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-19041930584576435552015-03-17T14:37:00.002-07:002015-12-16T06:33:42.647-08:00Thoughts On Christian Marriage Teachings, Part 2<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSqy4GjpH6zotMJ7YkSigW-kXRhzAqnUHrdAgRpHd4rbJWK6SlLvB_2o463GnpQDUexrtdrV7RAfLniaRczVmV-IKqnebY9_jFrHQSD-Gl-hNNITZCIdepb2qcsHFMOgl8r_n407DHdXR/s1600/dsc_5802-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSqy4GjpH6zotMJ7YkSigW-kXRhzAqnUHrdAgRpHd4rbJWK6SlLvB_2o463GnpQDUexrtdrV7RAfLniaRczVmV-IKqnebY9_jFrHQSD-Gl-hNNITZCIdepb2qcsHFMOgl8r_n407DHdXR/s1600/dsc_5802-001.jpg" width="247" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So with my story in mind from </span><a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2015/03/thoughts-on-christian-marriage.html" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">Part 1</a><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">, let’s talk about the
teachings that claim that without the Christian god, marriage cannot work.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It doesn’t take a genius to see the problems with that
belief. But it does take objectivity and willingness to look outside the
confines of your world and paradigm. <b>The fact is that marriages, all
relationships really, work just fine (or don’t) across all religious and ethnic
and historic boundaries.</b> Atheists, Catholics, Protestants of every flavor,
Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, New Age folks, Pagans, Wiccans, Mormons, Jews, and
every combination of these have had great, life-long, healthy marriages
throughout history (they’ve also all fucked up a lot of relationships). So what
is the constant there? Because it obviously isn’t the Christian God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>Christians think that if their marriage goes wrong, it’s
because they aren’t doing Christianity well enough.</i> But even the casual
observer can see that that has nothing to do with it. <b>That people without any
god at all can manage to do relationships well.</b> God, anyone’s version of it, is
not what holds relationships together. Those that say they are only together
because of God make me pause and wonder what will happen when their idea of god
changes, or if one spouse’s journey leads away from Christianity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">If belief in Jesus causes you to treat one another better
and therefor have a more fulfilling relationship, then that’s great! I’m not
knocking that at all. But there’s some concerns with that line of thought. <i>To
say that belief in your god is *the only thing* that can hold together a
marriage is not only false, it’s dismissing of every good marriage outside your
paradigm.</i> And it’s concerning to watch people go through highs and lows and to
constantly blame the way they treat their spouse on whether they are doing
religion correctly or not. <b>Human beings have managed to be respectful, loving,
and empathetic, be they Christian or not, and if one cannot be compelled to
treat another person in those ways without allegiance to one’s god, then I have
to ask why, because non-Christians manage it every single day. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I see my husband as deserving of my respect and empathy, not because a deity declared him so, but
because he’s a human being and valued. He values me purely because he loves me
and I am worth it as another human being, not because he has to “see Jesus in
me” in order to see my worth or because he can’t love me without first loving
God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So while I do think that faith can enhance one’s life and
relationship, I can also see where it has been used as a crutch and a
get-out-of-jail free card that people use to blame their problems on. <i><b>But when
you’ve been used to blaming your actions on God, lack of Him, flesh nature,
Satan, Eve, and everything else *but* your own self, it’s tough to start
admitting personal responsibility.</b> </i>No, my flesh nature is not responsible for
me yelling at my husband. *I* did that, I chose that action, *I* am responsible
to make it right. No, my lack of empathy toward my wife is not because I didn’t
pray enough this week, but because *I* chose to act in that way and *I* alone
am responsible to fix it. God isn’t going to fix it for me. That’s on me. And
it’s on you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thankfully, I know now by both reason and
experience that I can do good without anyone’s version of god. <b>I can have a great
marriage with myself and my spouse at the center of it and without a god in the
equation.</b> That many people, the world over, throughout history, have managed to
do much good and have fulfilling relationships with others with and without God
(anyone’s version of him/her). The traits that make us human, that cause us to
have healthy relationships with other humans, are not exclusive to
Christianity. We all have access to them, we all have the opportunity for
amazing relationships, god or no god.</span></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2015/03/thoughts-on-christian-marriage_20.html" target="_blank">Part 3</a> </span></span>Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-76625404090896649312015-03-17T14:08:00.001-07:002015-03-21T15:28:50.069-07:00Thoughts on Christian Marriage Teachings, Part 1<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIRaMMp6LHjPco-AWuy77aK509RUSoQZD_DxCgeSWxUFqWaBxFxk9hfvsyJScrfIlvIeFAVHSgtz6l3s3udU_DNVSmJ5oANpJH5WlIEyOlG0Q4GId8f7PqtS6jutAxHqams3LfU85PbrGq/s1600/dsc_5802-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIRaMMp6LHjPco-AWuy77aK509RUSoQZD_DxCgeSWxUFqWaBxFxk9hfvsyJScrfIlvIeFAVHSgtz6l3s3udU_DNVSmJ5oANpJH5WlIEyOlG0Q4GId8f7PqtS6jutAxHqams3LfU85PbrGq/s1600/dsc_5802-001.jpg" height="320" width="247" /></a></div>
<i>“God needs to be the center of your marriage or it will fall
apart.</i>”<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>“Marriage takes three to work well.”</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>“A good husband is one who helps his wife fall more in love
with God than with him.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>“The most important thing in marriage is for both to have
faith in God.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>“Without God, marriage cannot work well. We are two selfish
to accomplish a good marriage on our own without his sanctification and redemption.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>“A husband must be completely surrendered to God in order
for his wife to completely surrender to him.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>“The closer you move toward God, the closer you move toward
each other.”<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>“God ordained marriage and God sustains marriage.”</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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If you look up “Christian marriage quotes”, you’ll find
thousands of pages and tens of thousands of quotes like the ones above. Some of
us don’t have to Google, these things were drilled into us from babyhood. We
heard them from our parents, the pulpit, pre-marital pastoral counseling,
Christian marriage books, our own wedding ceremonies, and marriage seminars and conferences. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The closest concept I can think of for this type of thinking is “ethnocentric thinking”. I
know that’s not quite right, but I’m not sure there is a better word to describe this
type of religious-centrism, or <i>the idea that your perspective based on your religion is a universal truth,</i> when in reality the world around you is a much
bigger place with broader views that don’t follow your rules or operate within
your paradigm. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’d like to talk a little more thoughtfully about the idea
that “having a relationship with God and God as the center” is not necessary for having a wonderful
marriage and how dependence on this concept can be damaging. </div>
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But first, a
story. <i>My</i> story, and what led to the broadening of my own views on healthy
marriage.<o:p></o:p></div>
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These teachings about having God at the center of your
marriage, almost tanked my own marriage. Along with the erroneous teachings of <a href="http://www.theopedia.com/Complementarianism" target="_blank">Complementarianism</a>, the idea that God had to be the center of my marriage, and
all that entails, was disastrous for my marriage. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I came into marriage with a lot of funny ideas on what a
Godly marriage was supposed to look like. I’d been raised a good little female homeschooler and read all the right books, including <i><a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/lovejoyfeminism/created-to-be-his-help-meet" target="_blank">Created to Be HisHelpmeet</a></i>. I knew that in order to have a godly marriage that lasts a lifetime,
I had to learn submission to my husband, he had to be in tune with God in order
to lead correctly, we had to both be in daily communication with God, prayer
together daily, discuss our faith, be part of Bible studies that would
encourage us in our personal faith and our godly marriage, and be sure to “keep
God at the center” of our marriage. <i>We could only love each other well if we
loved God more.</i> Every church we were part of reinforced these teachings. Every
couple we talked to in the church declared them to be true.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But nothing worked out like it was supposed to. As my
husband said to me just last night, “Doing marriage the Christian way almost
killed our marriage”. The more I tried to respectfully get him to lead prayer
with me, or to go to men’s retreats where he’d learn to be a more godly leader,
the more he resisted and the more distant he got. He’d cave and go to a retreat
where, in his words, “they’d spend the whole time telling us how we weren’t
good enough men and needed to repent and get closer to God and we’d come home
feeling both dejected and on a repentance high.” (He likes to refer to the
emotional upswing that happens after a spiritual encounter as a “spiritual
high”.) We had quite a few of those experiences in the first 5 years of trying to be a
godly couple. There seemed to always be something to repent of, something we
weren’t doing quite right, something we needed to do better in order to obtain
what we were supposedly missing: <i>connection with God and therefore each other
and therefore God’s blessing on our marriage.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Somewhere along the line, we both gave up.</b> We loved each
other, had great chemistry, were committed for life. <i>But we were tired.</i> So
tired of trying to fit into boxes we didn’t fit in. Trying to pursue the
elusive spiritual connection that would finally help us obtain “godly marriage”.
We never fought, we just disconnected. I was sure it was over because we never
prayed together and he was sullen because I lived in fear that we’d messed up,
that God wasn’t the center of our marriage, that we could never have what all
those smiling couples on the marriage books had. And we were both miserable.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Giving up saved our marriage. </b><o:p></o:p></div>
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When we were both able to give up on expectations of each other
and ourselves, expectations we were told came straight from God, we were
finally able to see the people we were and the relationship we had. <i>We were
able to appreciate the uniqueness that was us instead of forcing something that
wasn’t us and was killing our hearts and souls and relationship.</i> We gave up the
idea that either of us had to be close to God to be close to each other and
started connecting based on who we were <i>as people</i>, not as Christians. We
stopped sharing our personal faith journeys with each other in a forced “we
have to share because it’s what we’re supposed to do” way, which was really me
trying to pry his thoughts out of his head in order to feel some sort of
spiritual connection to him. We stopped trying to model the male headship
structure and decided that Egalitarianism was more true to who we were and made
more sense for a healthy relationship between adults. I started to blossom as
my own person, an independent individual, something I had never done before as
a conservative homeschooled female. I no longer needed him to shape up
spiritually in order to lead me. I didn’t need a leader, I needed a partner, a
companion. He didn’t need me to be another child that needed leading, he needed
and wanted a partner in life. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We stopped asking “what are we supposed to do? What are we
supposed to get out of this relationship? How can we glorify God with our
marriage?” and started asking <i>“what do we want to do? What do we want from this
relationship? How can we live a fulfilled, healthy life within our marriage?”</i>
We threw out the books, stopped going to conferences, and completely gave up
any spiritual and religious aspect of our marriage. We didn’t talk about God with
each other for *years* and just let the other person have their own faith and
do whatever they liked with it. <b>We stripped it all down to two people, madly in
love, who like each other and want to do life together, and now what? </b><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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That was the first 5 years of our marriage. The last 5 years
have been truly phenomenal. Real connection, mutual respect, freeing each other
to be individuals, talking til 2 AM about everything and nothing, sexual
fulfillment, laughter, partners in crime, best friends, each on our own
spiritual journey and not threatened by the others’, doing life together in an
easy, non-forced way. <i>According to every sermon, every book, every conference,
every meme and internet quote passed around Facebook, our marriage should be
falling apart without God.</i> <b>But without God and the expectations that came with
the idea of him, our marriage is thriving,</b> as are many others in the same place
as we are. I am sometimes angered by the fact that something that started out so good was almost destroyed because we submitted to teachings of men in the name of their god. I'll talk a little more about those teachings and the problems inherent in them in <a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2015/03/thoughts-on-christian-marriage_17.html" target="_blank">Part 2.</a> <o:p></o:p></div>
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Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-78634017722531362232015-02-05T14:36:00.001-08:002015-02-05T14:36:48.845-08:00I Am The Story<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_WQyVKPvm0l_Rgy1sZgKuQ-WHgEtAIhHx31jeJskRcKu1H1NakOdeTLQJ_R-XLlxwZOFUuCnFk7pGqwjXvId3IhxL7JsqNZFVuR3kETbLbegxKT9tphIZXCVrpLM8Z1NomgZMyxf3ZeD/s1600/untitled-4642.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_WQyVKPvm0l_Rgy1sZgKuQ-WHgEtAIhHx31jeJskRcKu1H1NakOdeTLQJ_R-XLlxwZOFUuCnFk7pGqwjXvId3IhxL7JsqNZFVuR3kETbLbegxKT9tphIZXCVrpLM8Z1NomgZMyxf3ZeD/s1600/untitled-4642.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A blank page.</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kind of like my life before others drew on it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">31 years old and I am only beginning to write my own story
on my own pages in a book that is no longer blank but filled with the scrawls
of everyone else I allowed to scratch with pen and ink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was my story, written for me, but not written <i>by</i> me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was told god would write my story. <i>I was told that others
could write it better than I</i>, could write the words god wanted but that I was
too naive and immature and untrustworthy to write myself. They were the
scribes, I was the submissive blank pages, god was the dictator. But there is
no dictator and the ones that placed themselves as scribes could not control
the unruly characters and the story line, and had no idea where the ending was
or what would happen in the middle pages. They didn't know the first thing about the character I am. <i>They made a mess of the blank pages
that were my soul and life and I let them. </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>But no longer.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am left now holding the pen in my own hand, after
wrenching it out of the hands of previous scribes. I hover above a page no
longer blank, full of crossed-out words that can never quite be made good
enough or erased, their indents and marks evident and plenty. A story that
looks out of control, about a character I don’t recognize. Yet here I am,
turning that page to find the next one blank and the possibilities endless. And
it is both frightening and exhilarating. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>Because now I am the dictator and I am the scribe and I am
the story.</b></i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What will be written from now on will be written by my own
hand, in the language of my own soul, and my character is born again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I cannot change what was written both by my consent and
without it, and perhaps I don't want to, since who I am is the product of what has been written, and who can go back and predict an unwritten future? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>But I control what gets written from now until the day I die</i>, pages
covered in agony and joy and raw life. I wish I knew I always had this control.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>I wish I knew, half a life ago, that I alone was the author
of my story. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>I am determined now to make it a good one. </b></span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
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Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-47773966119962612202015-01-12T16:02:00.000-08:002015-01-12T16:04:37.812-08:00On Being Apostate <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRF2T0Z5wh66frhEpAFE5lDNOkSlL0OxU19jQEBbMn81ZUq1n4nynbTM5upSdX0sVe20udZBPbFEfxb17CucVqPLVi3W4yvKrAKU-NxtYoR_x3AzN9Jm4A9WKJtqdii9zjrWVF1prYjj8/s1600/untitled-4621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRF2T0Z5wh66frhEpAFE5lDNOkSlL0OxU19jQEBbMn81ZUq1n4nynbTM5upSdX0sVe20udZBPbFEfxb17CucVqPLVi3W4yvKrAKU-NxtYoR_x3AzN9Jm4A9WKJtqdii9zjrWVF1prYjj8/s1600/untitled-4621.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<i>Rejection....beseeching....tears....</i><br />
<i>anger....betrayal....confusion....</i><br />
<i>violence....manipulation....loss....</i><br />
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These are some of the things that people encounter upon <a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2013/10/on-leaving-christianity.html" target="_blank">leaving Christianity</a>. The questions are endless, the loss impossibly painful. Some of us are rejected straight out by family and friends. Some are harassed in the name of evangelism. Christianity says that you can't leave. Leaving means burning in hell forever. (Or, if you're Calvinist, you don't even have a choice, saved or not whether you like it or not.) Leaving is unthinkable. Leaving means losing everything that makes life worth living. Leaving means losing your community, your support, maybe even your job. The whole system is arranged in such a way that leaving isn't even a choice for many.<br />
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They try to beg you, reason with you, using not reason but emotional manipulation. "How can you do this to yourself, to your family? Aren't you afraid of hell? Don't you care about your children's eternal souls? Don't you care about how this makes the church look? If you leave, we can no longer be your friends; you cannot be part of our family, God says so. We must now treat you like an unbeliever." Excommunication, rejection, anger, irrational cliches.<br />
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<i>Do they really think these tactics will make us want to stay?</i><br />
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People will come up with all sorts of reasons why you must be apostate.<br />
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"You just never knew the real God."<br />
"You weren't saved in the first place."<br />
"You are deceived by Satan. You love your flesh more than God."<br />
"You just want to live a sinful life."<br />
<i>"If you only knew God the way I do, the REAL God, you could never leave him."</i><br />
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If I had a dime for every time someone told me that last one, every time they said "that isn't God, this is God" and pointed in another direction, <i>a way I've probably already been</i>, I'd be rich. <b>You can only be told so many times that the God that hurt you, the church that rejected you, is not the real God and the real people of God because eventually you realize that all gods are made in the image of men and all humans are human no matter how other they claim to be.</b><br />
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I need people to understand something. <i>You don't have a formula for why I walked away from your faith.</i> From MY faith. <i>You cannot justify to yourself some way that I am different, some way that I was broken that you are not, some way I got it wrong, in order to feel secure that you got it right. </i>It's difficult to fathom when you've been taught that if you do xyz, you will be saved forever that someone could do xyz and yet not be saved. I get it. I was you once and I didn't understand and it was scary and I read all the cliches that supposedly explained what was wrong with the apostate that could never be wrong with me. Yet.....here I am. And there you are. <i>And you can try with the best of them to continue to figure out "what went wrong" but your answers will never be satisfactory. Because they will not be true.</i> There is no formula that can keep your faith intact. I realize that according to all the rules, <a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2014/07/i-was-not-supposed-to-happen.html" target="_blank">I was not supposed to happen</a>. <i>I've also come to realize the rules are broken, not me, and they lie. </i>I know this doesn't fit into the Christian paradigm. <i>I</i> don't fit. That's OK by me. But someday people are going to have to stop hiding behind their paradigm with all the answers that dismiss everyone who doesn't fit, and start addressing the hard problems that just won't go away and that they don't have answers to.<br />
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<a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2014/08/a-time-to-search-and-time-to-give-up.html" target="_blank">The truth is that sometimes people wake up and they know something isn't right and they change.</a> It can be sudden or it can be gradual, but it happens. They wake up and they realize they swallowed a lie and life is not what they thought and they can't keep going on pretending that if they just keep on trying, maybe it will work out the way they were told it would. <i>This can happen to anyone, I am not special or unique or flawed.</i> <b>I am human, just like you</b>. No one is exempt from such awakening. It's a choice that we make to continue to live with cognitive dissonance that grows ever worse until we shut down parts of our hearts and minds to stop it and just keep doing and believing what we are told, what is safe. It's also a choice to choose to walk through a door that is scary and foreign but that is honest and true to ourselves. I have chosen the latter. And, for me, that means walking away from belief in god. For some of my friends, it meant re-defining who god is and what that means for them, and I respect that. I hope they find peace in that. I cannot. I've tried. It's dishonest for me.<br />
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Please, on behalf of all my ex-Christian friends I beg you, <b>stop trying to save us.</b> It feels very dismissing and disrespectful. I know it's your reaction based on fear that we will rot in hell, but it's a hell that men made to control people's behavior and I reject it. <i>You must believe me when I tell you that there is nothing you can say to me that I haven't heard </i>and probably once said to someone else. <a href="http://journeyfree.org/childhood-religious-indoctrination/" target="_blank">The childhood religious indoctrination was complete.</a> There is no scripture you can quote that I don't have memorized. <i>You cannot out-Bible an ex-fundamentalist. </i>You cannot out-Christian-cliche me. I know my Bible better than most pastors. I know the hymns by heart. I was a worship leader. I know every nuance and flavor of Christian culture quite intimately. I know the Greek and Hebrew words. I know the apologetics and the proof-texts and the sermons and the doctrines and <a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/excommunications/2014/12/battle-tactics/" target="_blank">all the "right" answers to everything</a>. I was fervent and devoted and loved Jesus with the best of them. <i>You cannot dismiss me by a wave of your hand and a proclamation of "you were never saved".</i> I was the saved of the saved. I was on fire. And now I have seen differently and changed my mind.<br />
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<a href="http://darcysheartstirrings.blogspot.com/2014/04/and-so-i-choose-freedom-to-love.html" target="_blank">Without Christianity, I am free. </a> I have no desire to go back into that <a href="http://valerietarico.com/2014/10/31/psychological-harms-of-christianity/" target="_blank">damaging bondage</a>.<br />
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This is not a decision that I, that any of us, take lightly. It is insulting to my intelligence that you would think it's "a reaction" to my past. It's true there's an emotional component to my choice. I am an emotional being.<i> But I am also rational and the two are not mutually exclusive.</i> I know what I am doing. Can you please take me on my word at that?<br />
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For those of you walking the same path, I want you to know you're not alone. There are resources out there for you. Here are a few that have helped me:<br />
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<a href="http://journeyfree.org/rts/" target="_blank">Journey Free</a>~ Religious Trauma Syndrome<br />
<a href="http://recoveringfromreligion.org/" target="_blank">Recovering From Religion</a><br />
<a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/excommunications/" target="_blank">Excommunications</a><br />
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Celebrate the journey. Life is precious and <a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/excommunications/2015/01/why-life-is-meaningful/" target="_blank">far more valuable</a> than I ever imagined. Drink it up. Love much. Pursue your passions. Leave a legacy. Write your story. Love others regardless of their religious beliefs. Peace be with you on your journey.<br />
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Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com79tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-29242228358249838842015-01-08T08:05:00.001-08:002015-01-08T08:47:55.181-08:00Raising Humans<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFp9LYnPb0gwLbjvkBVfcjupKXL4reu2_nu0YC8XatOV5FPXrQXkpjgbcgzvPt84vK6fB9z2YzjVIVfttnA-HCiLREVs252KIwXXMkB6eEQButfTC5I4EiLoFAMmYfHL3aGDfM2lIhTCD4/s1600/untitled-0428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFp9LYnPb0gwLbjvkBVfcjupKXL4reu2_nu0YC8XatOV5FPXrQXkpjgbcgzvPt84vK6fB9z2YzjVIVfttnA-HCiLREVs252KIwXXMkB6eEQButfTC5I4EiLoFAMmYfHL3aGDfM2lIhTCD4/s1600/untitled-0428.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
Raising kids who are strong, thinkers, unafraid of standing up for what is right and just, begins when they are little. <i>We simply cannot raise children who never question us or other authority figures, who aren't allowed to say "no", who are told what to think and feel, then expect them to magically become adults who question, think, feel, and stand against injustice as soon as they hit 18.</i> I've seen so many people who are surprised to end up with young adult children that have no idea how to make good choices or be responsible after an entire childhood of not being allowed to make choices and only following orders. We didn't allow them to say no to us, yet are surprised when they can't say no to boyfriends, girlfriends, peers, corrupt authority figures, and others who influence their lives when they get older?<br />
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You don't teach a child to become a respectful human being by cowing them and disrespecting their autonomy. <b>You can't teach them to respect others' rights by taking away their own.</b> You can't teach them to take charge of their life when you were completely in charge for most of it. You can't teach them to trust their intuition when you deny their emotions their entire childhood. We want perfectly behaved children then suddenly expect them to be adults who do what's right and go against the flow. We want children who follow orders and don't question us yet expect them to become adults who question and think for themselves. <b><i>But it doesn't work that way</i></b>. Unquestioning obedience sounds really convenient for us when they're small, but is that the type of character trait we want to see when they grow up? Are our parenting methods now matching our long-term goals for our children?<br />
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"Well-behaved children" is not my goal. Unless by "well-behaved" you mean respectful, strong, independent, a little rebellious, empathetic, humane, kind, honest, intelligent, compassionate, and free-thinking. <b>I am not raising human beings to be complacent, well-behaved members of a society that has no value for the things that really matter.</b> I am not raising robots and yes-men-and-women who fear contradicting those with power. Our home is not a practice in hierarchy and authoritarianism and it never will be. Conformity is not my goal and my parenting reflects that. I value people who are not afraid to question the status quo when the status quo is wrong, and I am not intimidated when my little humans practice that ability on me. Learning when to say "yes" and when to say "no" is a necessary ability and <i>I am the perfect, safest place for my children to learn this</i> and to learn to do this with respect and honor and confidence.<br />
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I can't help but see the strengths in my children. Even in the middle of a difficult event or all-out battle or inconvenient behavior, I find myself admiring the people they are. Sometimes I think we get so focused on fixing bad behavior that we forget to see their strengths. The child that will fight to the death against what they perceive as unfair treatment? That's the child who will passionately stand up against injustice for themselves and for others. We need to learn to see past an action or behavior that we find inconvenient and understand what is driving it, and figure out how to channel and guide that driving force in productive, healthy ways.<br />
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Children are people too. <i>If we can find ways to interact with other humans in our lives without hitting, shaming, yelling, and manipulating, then we can find these same ways to interact with our small humans.</i> They deserve this as much as any of us. Imagine a world where an entire generation of children were treated as human beings and grew up understanding what empathy and respect looks like. <b>That world starts with us.</b><br />
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Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-55415811133148776492015-01-03T18:36:00.001-08:002015-01-03T18:41:11.681-08:0010 Things Homeschool Parents Try To Explain But Fail <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcF76uOKjbibJir0XyAiB_c8toq6na_ONwpHx56u0MyfOoohTx03RC2_PPnkdnJtOiiIZGXLX-8R3SUNPppDACcKTu8musMQmkfdGNA5w1yFhmydJUM2epY66CQZCjXHKl8Uhmztppgx3L/s1600/351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcF76uOKjbibJir0XyAiB_c8toq6na_ONwpHx56u0MyfOoohTx03RC2_PPnkdnJtOiiIZGXLX-8R3SUNPppDACcKTu8musMQmkfdGNA5w1yFhmydJUM2epY66CQZCjXHKl8Uhmztppgx3L/s1600/351.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
There's an article going around, called <a href="http://www.donotlink.com/d378" target="_blank">"10 Things Homeschool Moms Want You To Know"</a>. Reading her points made me cringe, as it did my homeschooled friends who read it. You see, <i><b>we were the kids in her article</b></i>. So our perspective on these things are a little different than hers. Since this post was being passed around and lauded by homeschooling parents, I thought it worth an examination. I took her points and thoughtfully went through them here. Because I think that other homeschooled parents need to know that their perspective on homeschooling is not the only, and perhaps not the most important, one.<br />
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<b><u>1. "Our choice to homeschool is not a judgment on you."</u></b><br />
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This was her first point. She goes on to say that others shouldn't feel bad, she won't judge you for not homeschooling, don't judge her for homeschooling, everyone is just doing what's best for their kids. That's all well and good and I sincerely hope it's true for her. However, this was not my experience either as a homeschooled child or as a public school parent. <i>Homeschooling was toted as superior no matter what.</i> And those who didn't homeschool just didn't love their kids enough or let "worldly things" get in their way of choosing the best for their kids. We were raised thinking we were superior to public schooled kids, which we learned from the seminars and books and attitudes of the adults in our world. As a mom whose kids are in public school, I can say that this attitude of superiority is still prevalent in my world. It's been repackaged by the new wave of homeschooling as "the natural, best way to teach children". <i>But it's still a superiority complex</i>. I think it's great if everyone just chooses the best route for their family and leaves others alone unless harm is being done, but that just hasn't been my experience in this context, then or now.<br />
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<b><u>2. "Our kids are behind in school."</u></b><br />
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This one really irks me and I almost think is the most important point. <i>Educational neglect is a very real travesty among my alumni peers.</i> <a href="https://www.facebook.com/heduaonline/photos/a.211282088937044.51931.204354709629782/801045056627408/?type=1&permPage=1" target="_blank">It isn't something to joke about</a>. It isn't something to be taken lightly. This is not a good thing. The author says that her 13-yr-old daughter can't spell "were" and her son hasn't done his math. She then throws up a red herring to distract from these disturbing facts to tell her readers (who are presumably public school parents) that it's OK because our kids are behind too. Behind in what? Well, life skills! That's right, she says because her kids can change the brakes in a car and lead a Bible study they're actually not behind but yours are because they can't do basic life things, and claims importance is "a matter of perspective". <i>But from my perspective and that of my friends, having "life skills" and not being equal to our peers in academics means that we are not only behind in school, we are now behind in life. </i>We were taken out of the competition before we even started. Jobs, scholarships, college, all the things that could get us where we want to go in life....we never stood a chance for these. We, with all our "life skills" and "work ethics", were passed over for kids who weren't behind in school. You can complain all you like about the way things are and the way things should be, <i>but the way things are means that if you do not have academic skills equal to your peers, you will lose. </i>And you will spend your adult life trying to catch up. Many of my friends are in their 20's and taking high-school equivalency classes just to get into college. They are a decade behind their peers. Take it from the homeschooled alumni: <i>this is serious and needs to be taken seriously. </i><br />
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Now about the false dichotomy. Does she really think that public schooled kids can't change brakes or lead a Bible study? That public schooled kids have only "book learning"? Where you go to school doesn't make a difference, it's how you're parented that provides education in life skills. My kids are in public school. They also spend their free time with animals, art, reading, baking, camping, fishing, going on geological hikes, visiting museums, helping Dad fix things, learning horse care, and myriads of other things that will give them life skills. They are also very much NOT behind in academics. You can have the best of both worlds, and I suggest that if this mother's children are not getting that, perhaps she needs to rethink her educational methods.<br />
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<b><u>3. Our Kids Are Weird</u></b><br />
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So, yeah, I was definitely weird. Actually, I felt like a freak as a child. It was tough. Maybe I would've still felt that way in public school, maybe not. But she goes on to say "don't stereotype, we're not all like that", which is cool and everything, except for the fact that <i>her entire piece is based on stereotyping both homeschoolers and kids in public school</i>. Huh.<br />
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<b><u>4. We really Aren't All That Patient</u></b><br />
<br />
This one is a little concerning. She says, "We aren't any more patient than you are. There are days when we scream. There are days when we cry. There are days when we lock ourselves in the bathroom for hours on end. Our kids drive us crazy too." I'm no perfect parent and I've done my share of yelling and losing patience, but, see, screaming is not really normal. Unless your child is about to be run over by a stampede or bit by a snake, screaming at children is not merely "I lost my patience". <i>It's more like "I am overwhelmed and taking it out on the first people I see"</i>. And, no, I have never locked myself in the bathroom. If I need some space I go outside and breathe and watch my kids play and soak up some sunshine. I get out of the house and spend time in a book store or on a mountain somewhere by myself. <b>I take care of myself so I can take care of my kids.</b> There are healthy and unhealthy ways to blow off steam and screaming at your kids is not healthy. Locking yourself in the bathroom is a sign you need help and major self-care. Saying, "See? I'm just like you! I do crazy things that are a cry for help!" is not convincing at all. <i>It's OK to say you're in over your head and need help, need to switch things up a bit. </i>Many of us lived daily with parents that were stretched to the max because of homeschooling. Parents that were constantly impatient because they never had time to take care of themselves and therefore they couldn't rightly care for us. Parents who threw their hands up in the air, declared "school is over today I can't take anymore" at 10 AM, and locked themselves in their room. THIS IS NOT OK. <b>As someone who was the child in this author's scenario, I need parents to know that this is not healthy and does not produce healthy relationships or attitudes in the home.</b> As a parent, I get the need for a break, trust me. My husband is a trucker and I parent 4 kids alone. So take a break! You are not superwoman. But don't act in unhealthy ways, don't sacrifice your kids' education and emotional security for the sake of homeschooling. It isn't worth it and you aren't doing them any favors. And if this was just supposed to be a joke.....it failed miserably. It's not funny.<br />
<br />
<b><u>5. We're just trying to do what's best for our kids.</u></b><br />
<br />
See, here's my thoughts: many, if not most, parents want what's best for their kids. I mean, have you ever heard a parent say, "Naw, I don't really care what's best for my kids"? <b>But they've been duped into thinking that homeschooling is always The Best Right Way for their kids, so much so, that all the warning signs that it isn't actually best....like screaming and locking yourself in the bathroom and your kids falling behind.....are completely ignored.</b> "We were just trying to do what was best!" is something we alumni have heard ad nauseam. <u>When, in reality, they couldn't see past the picture of The Perfect Family that they so desperately wanted to what really was best. They were so convinced they were right, they let critical thinking fly out the door. They bought a bill of goods hook, line, and sinker, to our detriment. </u>When my best friend's mom couldn't figure out how to teach her what she needed to know, she just quit teaching her. No more school. Because public school was so wrong and evil that it couldn't possibly be better than NOTHING AT ALL. The warning signs that homeschooling is not "what's best" are there. There's a bunch of them in this author's piece. (Can I just say that if your 13-yr-old can't spell, and you're locking yourself in the bathroom, and your kids are unable to operate in the society they were born into, that you are NOT "Doing what is best" for them OR for you?) But those warning signs will be ignored because Homeschooling is a hill to die on and there can be no failure. I've seen it. I've lived it. So many of our parents still insist homeschooling was "best" even in face of educational neglect, emotional abuse, and lifelong struggles due to being homeschooled poorly. So I have a difficult time with parents like this one who claim if it wasn't best, they wouldn't do it. They will never be convinced that it isn't best so the claim is pointless. I sincerely hope I'm wrong, that this parent, this author, is different. But I'm cynical for good reason.<br />
<br />
<u><b>6. Our kids are not trick ponies.</b></u><br />
<br />
From a kids' perspective, this is totally legit. It was always annoying to be given pop quizzes upon a stranger's discovery that we were homeschooled. Just leave kids alone, 'k? They don't owe you an explanation for their parent's choices.<br />
<br />
<b><u>7. Grades don't reflect character.</u></b><br />
<br />
Does anyone think they do? She then downplays grades as unimportant and character as the most important thing. Another obvious false dichotomy. And from the alumni's perspective, it would've been nice to know what our grades were. That way when we graduated and entered the real world, we would know whether we were good competition for our peers or woefully behind and unable to get scholarships and jobs. Parents liked to say that grades didn't matter, but I think they should have. Perhaps just to make sure they were teaching us the way we needed to be taught, to make sure we were keeping up and learning, to hold THEM accountable. <i>I sometimes think now the whole "grades don't matter" mantra was really a cop-out for our parents so they didn't have anyone to judge their competency. </i>For us, it just made everything confusing and made us think we were smarter or dumber than we really were. Trying being 18 and getting to college and realizing for the first time that grades DO matter. On a test, your profs aren't going to say "Oh, your D doesn't matter, we know you have great character". <b>Once again, the idealism of the homeschoolers doesn't match the real world that we were thrown into as adults unprepared. </b><br />
<br />
<b><u>8. Our kids are socialized.</u></b><br />
<br />
That's good to know. She says, "People seem to have great concern about whether or not our kids are well-adjusted socially. We would like to assure you, they are doing just fine." I wonder if she's thought to ask her kids how they feel about their socialization? Because my parents, and every homeschooled parent I knew, said the same things. "They are well-socialized" actually meant that we were pretty good at talking to adults and playing with small children. <i>But many of us have no idea still how to relate to peers.</i> Peers scare the crap out of us. Some of us still struggle to see ourselves as adults and peers of adults and struggle to relate and socialize with other adults our age. This is the product of most homeschooling socialization. We spent our lives around adults and siblings, and, rarely some of us luckier than others got to be a part of homeschooled co-ops with kids our own ages or sports teams. Not many of us were that lucky though. And some of us were completely isolated from everyone because we were dependent on our parents to offer opportunities to socialize and many parents just didn't bother. It's a legit concern and was reality for many in my generation.<br />
<br />
<b><u>9. We Worry</u></b><br />
<br />
Here she says things like, "We really don’t need you to list the "what-ifs" for us. "What if he can’t get into college?" "What if you can’t teach her the proper way to dissect a frog?" "What if a 'regular' school was the better way to go?" We worry about all these things and more. We doubt ourselves and hope we haven’t ruined our children. We have the same Mama-guilt as you". <br />
<br />
This was a bit infuriating. <i>You</i> worry? Did you ever stop to think those worries were legit? We worried too. Worried that we'd never teach ourselves to read when you gave up on us. Worried that we were cheating our way through high school math because we didn't understand it and you couldn't figure out how to teach it. Worried that we'd never do anything with our lives because we didn't know the first thing about life. Worried that we'd always be trapped, that we wouldn't have friends, that we'd be seen as impostors if we ever stepped foot into a college or workplace. Worried that we'd never fit in anywhere. Worried that we wouldn't know how to live life outside our very small boxes and 4 walls of our house. Some of us worried because our parents hurt us and since we were homeschooled we had no one to turn to and no way to know if their actions were normal or not. <i>You worried?! Try being us.</i> We are the ones that are still paying for your choices to not listen to your own worries. I'm not saying your worries are less important than ours, but, really, making this all about you and your worries and your success or failure is self-absorbed. This is about your children. If you have sincere worries for their future and whether homeschooling is a good idea or not, PAY ATTENTION to those worries.<br />
<br />
<b><u>10. Our Kids Do Normal Things</u></b><br />
<br />
That's cool she gives her kids normal kid things. She is an exception. Most of us have no idea what any of those things are like. Prom? Heh, please. Dancing in our world was like having sex standing up. OMG you'd have to touch a girl!!! Some of us were forced to dress like Laura Ingalls and never allowed to watch TV. But the one line at the bottom really bothers me: "We like being different. We are okay being different, and we hope you can appreciate us for our differences!" Do you think your kids feel the same way? Would they even tell you if they didn't? Because my mom said the same things. "Yay, us, we're different! We're not like all the sheeple!" But the fact was, <i>I hated being different.</i> I hated being weird and the freak. I hated it all and was miserable because of it. So, parents, speak for yourself. Maybe parents get off on being "different", wear it like a badge, parading their different children around as some mark of....uniqueness? Superiority? I really have no idea. <i>But the point is that most homeschooled kids don't get "normal" and we didn't like being different, </i>though our parents sure seemed to think it was awesome.<br />
<br />
If this is the piece that homeschooling parents are passing around to describe homeschooling, they may want to reevaluate that. <b>It isn't a flattering picture at all.</b> Perhaps what homeschooling today needs is a good dose of empathy: <b>put yourself in your child's shoes and see their world from their perspective.</b> Parents who were not homeschooled need to stop writing about what it's like to be homeschooled because really <i>they have no idea</i>. And since it's our lives that were affected most, and our futures that were gambled, I think that our perspective is important in order to prevent a lot of the mistakes made in our generation of homeschoolers. Education is, after all, supposed to be about the children and the next generation.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com58tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-31152553853751459502014-11-06T17:26:00.002-08:002014-11-06T17:26:49.954-08:00I Will Not Be Erased <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>You think you know me, but you don’t.</b> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>You have no idea who I am</i> – what makes me
happy, sad, furious, what makes me tick, what makes me, <i>me</i>. You think you do,
but you don’t. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You used to tell me “I know you better than you know yourself.”
<i>How dare you?</i> I can’t think of a more arrogant, presumptuous thing to say to
someone. You only ever saw the parts of me I let you see. I learned early on that it wasn’t
safe to let you see all of me, the true me. That you were not someone I could
trust with myself or be vulnerable around. I learned a long time ago that who I
really was would never be acceptable to you. <i>So I hid</i>. And those times I couldn’t
hide, I was punished by you, confirming that my instinct was correct and you
were not safe. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>That girl you think you know doesn’t exist and never did.</b> You
made her up and did your best to cram me, the real me, into the mold you made
for her. You did your best to create a role that I was to fulfill, and I tried,
<i>oh how I tried</i>, even until recently, just to be accepted. I was only ever accepted if I played the
role well. Maybe this is why you have to erase me, because I quit playing your role. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>You think you own the narrative of my childhood, my life.</b> My
story told by you is very different than how I tell it, how I lived it. And when I have tried
to express this, I am dismissed, what I have experienced is denied, and
everything that has made me *me* is erased by you. <i>Like a magic spell, you
speak the words “What are you talking about? That never happened!” and gone is
another part of my story, another piece to the puzzle that could tell me who I
am and why.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>But I am done accepting your narrative of my life.</b> You do
not get to control it any longer. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These memories are mine, my life story. <i>They have made me
who I am.</i> They embody my childhood, my development into a fully functional
human being, spirit, soul, and body. They have influenced my choices in life,
including my career choice, my parenting choices, my aversions and desires, who
I love and who I hate, what I believe and what I doubt. I am paying today for
the consequences of those events you say never happened. <i>I am who I am because
of my story then and now.</i> You cannot take that away from me because you don’t
like the parts you played. You cannot paint over the dark ugly parts with
pastels and rainbows. You do not get to define my identity, and as much as you
try to do so, <i>you cannot erase me in favor of a girl that never existed. </i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>I will not be erased. </b></div>
Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3113535730415912557.post-56668639262231320082014-10-19T15:51:00.000-07:002014-11-03T09:25:49.523-08:00The Nightmares<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I keep having these dreams that my parents are keeping my husband away from me, or me away from him, like they did 12 years ago, only worse. Sometimes they have me locked up somewhere, sometimes they deny he ever existed. Always I'm trapped and defenseless and frantically searching for him, trying to find him, to get back to him. Always I can't find him, or he can't hear me, and my parents gain control and drag me away from him.<br />
<br />
In the last dream I had, I woke up and was back in my childhood home near Seattle. I was scared, I ran upstairs from my basement room, asking where my children were, where my husband was. Everyone looked confused and didn't know what I was talking about. They treated me like I was mentally unstable and insane and making stuff up. They said I didn't have any children, that we'd never moved to eastern WA, and that I'd never been in love or married. I became frantic, begging them to let me out, to go search for my family. They refused and locked me in the basement, saying it was for my own good, that I was sick. I started to think they were right, but something happened to make me sure that I did have children, that I was married, that I had a life, and that I had to fight with everything I had to get out of that house and away from those people who claimed to be my family and claimed to love me. I knew that my kids were missing me and my husband was probably looking for me, they probably all thought I'd run off and didn't love them anymore and that broke my heart. I sat in the basement room, screaming, bloodying my knuckles trying to escape. I knew I wasn't crazy but....what if I was? What if they were right and there is no husband, no children, and I am truly sick, trying to escape walls that keep me safe?<br />
<br />
I hate these dreams. I hate that 10 years after I won and took control and chose my own way in my life, I still fear being controlled. I still fear losing control over my own life and losing the man and children who are mine. I can still feel the agony and helplessness of being trapped, even though the cage was really in my own mind and theirs and nothing physical was keeping me from walking away back then, only spiritual manipulation and fear. I wonder when these dreams will ever stop. I wake up from these dreams in a panic, reaching for my husband, putting my hand on my baby son in his crib next to me, tangible evidences that I am in my own bed, in my own home, in my own life.<br />
<br />
And I try to reconcile in my mind the parents I know now who come to visit to bring gifts to their grandkids and have coffee in the mornings and do a little bit of life with us, with the parents back then who controlled and manipulated and who had convinced me they had power over me and my choices and whom I believed. And I wonder how long I can keep saying "my parents weren't abusive, they weren't like those horror stories you read about. They loved us" as I wake up in a cold sweat from these dreams. Do motives really matter in the end? Because it was the actions that broke me; their motives can't fix that. I wonder if we are ever going to talk about it, to go back there and expose all the ugliness that was my life 12 years ago, and if I will ever stop having these nightmares if we don't.<br />
<br />
I am 30 years old, a successful mother and student and advocate. I control my life and my choices. I am loved deeply by the man I share my life with, the man who fought for me. I have four children whose lives I nurture and guide. I chose to live every day with a whole heart, with vulnerability, with honesty, with empathy, with authenticity, with deep joy in my amazing life and my beautiful family. Yet one dream every few months with the same theme over and over again, touching a very broken place in my soul, and I am completely undone. I have to fight yet again to convince myself that no one controls me but me. That I am free and no one can take that from me.<br />
<br />
This is the power of childhood psychological abuse, emotional abuse, and spiritual abuse. It breaks parts of us that no one can see. That often even we can't see. But that are evident in the panic attacks, the recoiling from normal things, the nightmares.The rage that comes out of nowhere as an instinctual defense. The feeling of being a helpless child again. The confusion when presented with two differing stories of the same incident and being told yours is the incorrect version.<br />
<br />
This story isn't over. But as dark and unfinished as it is, it's a necessary one to tell right now, in this moment, so others living the same story don't feel quite so alone. We fight and we win. I know we win. I have already won so much. And I'm not finished yet.Darcyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03702441292981376229noreply@blogger.com9