Monday, July 30, 2012

My Chemical Romance

I came home from the Courage conference super-stressed and exhausted. My brain is just starting to come back on line, but I'm still a little slow – I'm hoping to get around to the last parts of my series soon, but I'm not quite there yet.
In the meantime, I got a fascinating comment on “Forbidden Fruit, Hidden Lies,” which I would like to respond to. The relevant paragraph is here:

Savia: “Women experience a flood of oxytocin — the same hormone which they produce in labor and in nursing a baby. Oxytocin causes a woman to be forgetful, decreases her ability to think rationally — and causes an incredibly strong emotional attachment to form with the man she is with. Men also produce some oxytocin during sexual intercourse. But their bodies also produce a hormone called vasopressin. Vasopressin, called “the monogamy molecule,” kicks in after sexual activity, and its impact is to heighten a man’s sense of responsibility. It encourages that part of him which says, “My gosh, she may be carrying my child! I’d better get serious about life! I’ve got to get to work, to provide for this family!” 

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Forbidden Fruit, Hidden Lies

In the Beginning, “God created man in the image of himself...male and female he created them.” (Gen. 1:27) Male and female. Two genders. No queers.
That's the story, as it goes within mainstream Catholic discourse. I tried to live that story for twelve years. I figured that maybe if I just limped along for long enough, trying to strengthen my broken femininity, eventually it would completely heal. I would be whole again. Made in the image and likeness of God. As He intended, according to His authentic plan for human sexuality.
Then I was sitting there, in the middle of the winter, and I looked down at my body, and I realized that I didn't feel feminine. That I only rarely feel feminine. That my body image is more often than not male, and that in twelve years of trying to be the perfect woman, I'd only succeeded in fostering a deep strain of self-loathing, and a profound resentment for women to whom femininity comes easily.