Week 1: A Whole Holy Week
As I stepped into Holy Week last Sunday, I embarked on a journey of intentional singleness. The first thing I learned about the journey? It’s hard.
You see, I was raised in the rural south. I was raised in Evangelicalism. I was raised in purity culture. You want to know what all of those things have in common? They teach that the primary objective of every woman should be to appease and please a man. And so, by choosing singleness - by choosing to invest in myself for myself for the next 12 months - I have rejected one of the core messages I was taught as a child. I am actively rejecting a value that was placed on me from before I knew what it was or what it meant and I am choosing to actively engage with my own internal biases in a very real and direct way.
Now, the patriarchal narrative that dominates these structures is not news to me, nor is the knowledge that most things are designed to appeal to the male gaze and that women often internalize the misogyny that exists in the culture they are surrounded by. I have a BA in Sociology - these are the kind of things I studied. But there’s a difference in knowing and analyzing something in society and confronting it directly within yourself.
Last week, I became increasingly aware - I was somewhat aware before - of the number of things I was doing in order to try to appeal to a man or men in some way. From the way I dressed to the tone of my voice, the lingering question in my mind is often: “but will he like it?”. And the thing is, this isn’t a general desire to placate men and be seen in their eyes as good - it is a desire to make the most desirable man in the room see me as a viable partner.
Now, logically, saying that out loud makes me ill because it is incredibly out of line with my values and beliefs. But, on a basic psychological and sociological level, it makes sense. It makes sense that there is a young girl inside of me constantly asking if we have done enough to measure up to the standard of womanhood that must be lived into if we are going to find a husband, have a family, and live a God-honoring life. Because for her, for me, that was as good as it was supposed to get - that was the path to holiness and wholeness.
And so, Holy Week has been a whole week. It’s always a whole week for those of us who work in ministry, and it’s also a whole week for those of us who are - or have been - incredibly “devout”. And on top of the usual busyness and emotional exhaustion, there were quite a few things going on in the world that added to it all: the conservative outrage over Lil Nas X’s new song and shoes, the much-discussed Nadia Bolz-Weber and Joshua Harris interview, and the continued trial of Derek Chauvin for the murder of George Floyd. Beyond that, there were and are other pressing issues and discussions happening in the world, in particular the #StopAsianHate movement, and to top it all off we each have our own individual pains that others may or may not know that may or may not relate to the list of societal issues I previously mentioned. It can all be too much.
That’s what this week felt like for me - too much. That’s why I’m writing this post on Monday morning when I had planned for it to go out yesterday - there was just too much happening for me to quiet my thoughts enough to make them make sense. My anxiety was too high, my religious trauma was too triggered, my emotions too strung out from Facebook memories reminding me of the loves that now only live in my memories - last week had so many layers to it, more layers than I can unpack right now, but I think this may be a start. A start to unpacking the ways my upbringing shaped my view of singleness. A start to more directly unpacking the way I relate to men. A start to unpacking the pain of purity culture which tells women they are treasures in one breath and tears their self-worth to shreds in the next, only to place them in competition with one another moments later. Maybe, just maybe, this - this year, this forsaking of all others and choosing of myself - is the real path to wholeness… and damn does it feel holy.