{"id":2584,"date":"2012-03-26T16:30:28","date_gmt":"2012-03-26T20:30:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/lovejoyfeminism\/?p=2584"},"modified":"2012-08-07T21:35:39","modified_gmt":"2012-08-08T01:35:39","slug":"dreams-of-defiance-and-steps-of-healing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/lovejoyfeminism\/2012\/03\/dreams-of-defiance-and-steps-of-healing.html","title":{"rendered":"Dreams of defiance and steps of healing"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

I just read a blog post on modesty, and this excerpt<\/a> stuck out to me for a very specific reason, a reason I will explain in a minute:<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd men, don\u2019t let the Proverbs 7 woman deceive you!\u201d he shouted from the pulpit.<\/p>\n

My head was pounding. I glanced around. Everyone was drinking it in, nodding solemnly.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe waits for you men. She lures you in. A glance here and a flash of skin there\u2013 don\u2019t trust her.<\/p>\n

I frowned.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd women, don\u2019t fool yourselves. Don\u2019t- don\u2019t dress in a way that says you\u2019re offering something you can\u2019t give. Don\u2019t give your brothers a reason to stumble. The female figure is fatal. Don\u2019t go prancing around, parading.\u201d<\/p>\n

Disgust was rising within me.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo we have a dress code here? No! No. But we do encourage young ladies to dress in a way that says that they love the Lord their God with all their heart mind and soul. Yes, yes. That\u2019s all we ask.\u201d<\/p>\n

Oh, sure, I thought. I\u2019d heard too much of this, for too long. We all know what that\u2019s code for: knee length skirts, loose shirts and high necklines show that you love God.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd he went to this sister in Christ, who was dressed modestly,\u201d he continued as I tuned back in, \u201cAnd he thanked her. He thanked her. By concealing her shape, by ensuring that she is not alluring, she enabled him to keep his focus where it belongs. On God.<\/p>\n

Men, don\u2019t be averted for a moment.\u00a0Don\u2019t let a woman, through her- her.. appeal, pull you away.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019d had enough.<\/p>\n

A boldness I\u2019ve seldom felt grew inside me and I found myself standing up.<\/p>\n

My mouth opened, and words poured out.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow can you preach like that?\u201d I said, disgusted.<\/p>\n

I turned to the women and implored that they value themselves more.\u00a0I shamed the men for demanding that women conform to their fashion ideals, claiming the Bible.<\/p>\n

And then I woke up.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Reading this excerpt reminded me of a blog post<\/a> by Melissa that I read a few months back:<\/p>\n

I can hear them\u00a0in the next room. Dad yanks at his arm, yelling at him and threatening to spank him if he doesn\u2019t do \u2026 something? I\u2019m not even sure what he\u2019s in trouble for this time. I cower in the next room, wanting to do something, wanting to save him. I hear the slaps, he starts to cry, Dad shoves him away. Holding my breath, hoping and praying for it to end, maybe if I squeeze myself small enough into this dark corner behind the bookcase\u2026\u00a0I could just disappear. <\/em><\/p>\n

<\/em>I\u00a0stuff more dirty clothes into the wash machine, refusing to look out the window at the dreary sunless day. My sister comes in, long hair pulled back in a pony tail, wearing a long tan skirt and her favourite blue collared polo shirt. She looks tired. \u201cWe need to get to that family room before Dad gets home\u201d she says. I nod, turning the knobs on the washer. \u201cI have to start dinner, do you think you can get a sister to help you?\u201d She shrugs, \u201cI think so, she\u2019s been super emotional today, but I\u2019ll try.\u201d Part of me wishes Mom was up to handle this, but she\u2019s been in bed for days now.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet over here,\u00a0you have to be spanked for talking to me like that.\u201d My stomach tightens. I can\u2019t do it, not again. I run into the bathroom and lock the door. I look at the bathroom sink and remember how many times I\u2019ve leaned over that sink, skirts lifted, thighs clenched, waiting for my mom to land the blows on my leg, willing myself not to make a sound.<\/p>\n

I hate this room.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you don\u2019t come out of there it\u2019s just going to be worse for you later\u201d her voice comes through the door.\u00a0There is a roaring in my ears. I fight the urge to yell that I\u2019m sorry, and undo the lock and just get it over with. It doesn\u2019t matter how many times I submit, how hard I try, this is only going\u00a0 to continue, day in-day out. How can I live like this?<\/p>\n

This needs to end. I have to get out of here. This time, I\u2019m not going to roll over and play dead. This time, I\u2019m going to do something about this. This time, I\u2019m going to tell someone.<\/p>\n

I head to the window, I know how to remove the screen, maybe I can get to a neighbours and use their phone\u2026 To call someone. Call who? I don\u2019t know\u2026 the police? My grandparents? I move to the window and fumble with the latch, I can hardly believe I\u2019m doing this.<\/p>\n

And then I woke up,\u00a0drenched in sweat, heart beating wildly. It took my several minutes longer to realize that my lover is sleeping peacefully on one side of the bed, my youngest baby on the other,\u00a0and I\u2019m in the middle, safe.<\/em><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The post goes on:<\/p>\n

I haven\u2019t lived with my parents for years. But since I moved away, I\u2019ve lived some of those old memories in dreams again and again. Sometimes I am a young child in my dream, sometimes a teen. Sometimes I am an adult somehow transported back in time and living in my parents home as the child I no longer am.<\/p>\n

The one common factor in all of these dreams, is that I never stand up. I let them hurt me, I watch them hurt my siblings, or (in the worst of my dreams) I watch them spank or belittle my own children,\u00a0and I never do anything.<\/p>\n

I am always powerless in my dreams.<\/p>\n

I had this dream early last December, but it took me a few weeks to realize what was different about it.\u00a0This marks the first time a dream involving my parents included anything but my complete obedience to them. I didn\u2019t quite stand up to them in my dream, but I was leaving the situation with plans to make it change.<\/p>\n

I know it\u2019s just a dream, but it feels like a huge step for me.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

I cried when I read this post. Cried, because I wanted to yell \u201cme too, me too!\u201d<\/p>\n

I never suffered the sort of physical abuse Melissa describes, and I haven\u2019t had nearly as many bad dreams about my past as Melissa has. And yet, I have had some<\/em>, every now and then.\u00a0A recurrent dream.<\/p>\n

In this dream, my father is yelling at me, yelling at my in front of my siblings, yelling me for being brainwashed, for being led astray, for betraying him. Yelling that he should never have thought of sending me to college. And I am crying, crying, crying.<\/p>\n

I had this dream again a few months ago, but it didn\u2019t end the same way. Instead of sitting and crying I got up. I got up, walked to my father, looked him in the face, and talked back<\/em>. I stood up for myself in a way I never had in my dreams \u2013 and in a way I never did in real life. I was full of strength, full of passion, full of confidence and courage. I was not afraid or ashamed. And my father backed down.<\/p>\n

And then I woke up.<\/p>\n

I think Melissa is right. I think that dream was important. I had this dream not long after starting to see a therapist.\u00a0I think sometimes we heal in our dreams.<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I just read a blog post on modesty, and this excerpt stuck out to me for a very specific reason, a reason I will explain in a minute: \u201cAnd men, don\u2019t let the Proverbs 7 woman deceive you!\u201d he shouted from the pulpit. My head was pounding. I glanced around. 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