I Hate to Nag...

This is my second post on lessons remembered in For Women Only...


I'm sure I'm not the only woman who lives in fairly-constant fear of being a nag. It's the ultimate cultural rejection of the feminine, the exaggerated worst that all women can be. For many of us (at least I hope it's not just me), being a nag ranks with being a compulsive shopper or a binge eater--it's an abuse of what's good that tortures yourself and others.

That's why I was so disturbed in For Women Only by just how ready men are to perceive our actions as nagging. I thought husbands and wives were supposed to be teams, so I'm surprised and dismayed that men seem to perceive virtually any reminder to do something as nagging. If I'm Adam's helpmate, there has to be some ground here for helping him keep track of his massive to-do list.

Fortunately for me at least, I'm in love with a really reasonable man. I sat down and talked with him about what the book said and about my fear of nagging. While he agreed that reminders generally do seem like nagging, he conceded that my reminders are often useful or necessary. He plans to prove to me he doesn't need to be reminded before he expects me to give up trying to help me this way.

But what about women with less understanding husbands? I don't understand why mass culture is so ready to label a woman a nag. It seems unfair when I'm sure a majority of us are only trying to help when we remind our significant others of things. We're a team--if I do it out of love, I ought to be able to help him in whatever ways I sense are necessary without being accused of undermining him as a man. There has to be a compromise somewhere if only we're willing to discuss nagging together.

For Women Only doesn't really make pejorative claims about what women do or about what men think of it--the book merely presents women with information about how men think. But I think, in this case, the way men think is unfair. In the same way I'm sure few men would like us to accept the mass cultural image of them as mindless sex fiends, few women enjoy or deserve the title of "nag."

Natural Family Planning versus the Fertility Awareness Method

I've tried not to blog very much about NFP because it's a topic that can make people pretty squeamish. Don't worry. I'm not going to go into graphic detail here. But NFP classes have become a fairly standard part of marriage preparation for a Catholic couple, so I think it's only right that I think about them and discuss them as a part of the larger project of this blog.

It's difficult to talk about NFP and FAM to people who don't know what they are. I've entertained a lot of jokes about the calendar method and the likelihood of becoming a parent soon after my wedding. (Just to clear up an urban myth, NFP and FAM are about 98% effective when used correctly.) But NFP and FAM are not just about avoiding pregnancy. They're a lifestyle choice and one which, quite frankly, is much healthier for the woman and statistically a part of a stronger marriage.

Because Adam and I have been WAY out of town, we've had to go about NFP training on our own. I bought a book I found on-line, Taking Charge of Your Fertility, and Adam and I read through it together. In all honesty, I bought this particular book because it's a secular book--I thought I would be happier with a more objective discussion. It's about the Fertility Awareness Method--which means it's the same idea as Natural Family Planning, but the emphasis is on the method's benefits to a woman's health and a couple's relationship rather than on the Church's teaching.

Reading Taking Charge of Your Fertility made me feel empowered. It unabashedly discussed the most intimate details of my anatomy in rational, "grown-up" terms. It encouraged me to accept everything that makes me a woman, even the sometimes-gross bits, and encouraged Adam to learn about and accept them, too. As someone who has suffered horrible consequences from hormonal birth control (taken for medical reasons), I loved how much time the book spent highlighting how much better for a woman it is to stay off the pill--and the unfairness that women, who are much less fertile than men, are expected to bear the burden (and often disquieting side effects) of birth control. When I finished the book, I felt more capable as a woman and more ready to share myself with my husband after our wedding.

Trying to get the same information from the Church's Natural Family Planning resources has been a completely different experience.

The Natural Family Planning booklets and websites I've found take what made me feel empowered and make it into an obligation imposed on me by a male-dominated hierarchy. I don't feel like I'm choosing what's best for my body; I feel like I'm trapped in a reactionary former age. The very same materials which the secular book presented to me in a "grown-up," scientific way are euphemized--or at least dumbed down. I'm not empowered by a better knowledge of my body; I'm condescended to and made to feel ashamed of my feminity. I can't even find a doctor to talk to me about some of my specific questions, which makes a perfectly legitimate method of monitoring my own health seem ineffective and backwards. NFP materials have made me feel ashamed of a choice I was proud of. That's really inexcusable.

It's not that we've met anyone involved with NFP who didn't mean very, very well. But it's a dreadful shame that the Church is failing to convince couples to use an effective form of fertility management proven to be more healty and correlated with stronger, happier marriages. We as Catholics really ought to reexamine the way we present NFP to ourselves and to the larger world.

Male and Female He Created Them

Sexuality affects all aspects of the human person in the unity of his body and soul. It especially concerns affectivity, the capacity to love and to procreate, and in a more general way the aptitude for forming bonds of communion with others.

Everyone, man and woman, should acknowledge and accept his sexual identity. Physical, moral, and spiritual difference and complementarity are oriented toward the goods of marriage and the flourishing of family life. The harmony of the couple and of society depends in part on the way in which the complementarity, needs, and mutual support between the sexes are lived out.

"In creating men 'male and female,' God gives man and woman an equal personal dignity." "Man is a person, man and woman equally so, since both were created in the image and likeness of the personal God."

Each of the two sexes is an image of the power and tenderness of God, with equal dignity though in a different way.
--Catechism of the Catholic Church

There is a beautiful George MacDonald story called The Myth of Photogen and Nycteris. In the tale, the witch Watho abducts two young children--a boy and a girl. She raises the boy to be strong and fearless, but to never encounter the dark. She raises the girl to be wise and calm, but to never see light brighter than a small globe in her otherwise pitch-black room. Eventually, the two discover each other and make a daring escape from the witch's kingdom. It takes all of their shared talents and virtues to make the journey alive.

The story is, on top of being a brilliant tale in its own right, a poignant allegory for the relationship between men and women. Photogen is deeply involved in the world, strong, able to take care of Nycteris. Nycteris is my retired, thoughtful, but able to get Photogen through the darkest nights and his deepest fears. As a child, I loved that image of cooperation, love between two perfect equals necessary for each others' completeness. As a grown woman, soon to marry my own Photogen, I find the story even more compelling.

Perhaps that's why I was deeply disturbed to hear a Catholic priest recently questioning the idea that men and women have separate but complimentary virtues. That idea has been so fundamentally important to me as I've learned to accept and then love my identity as a woman. I don't want to go back to defining my worth by how well I embody the virtues I admire in men: strength, directness, assertiveness. Those aren't my virtues--when I tried to pretend they were, the only made me unhappy and disliked. But, if they aren't male virtues, why did valuing them feel so fundamentally wrong?

The priest's claim was that language about complementarity has only come into the Church's teaching during the past fifty years or so. As he frames it, the emphasis on men and women's separate virtues is a reaction to the feminist revolution--a resurgence of conservatism on the part of the Catholic Church. "I don't remember this kind of wording from my childhood," he said. Another priest corroborated. In a few days of searching, I haven't been able to find a single document that solidly proves them wrong. Even the texts cited in the Catechism (quoted above) all post-date Vatican II.

But what if the priest's causation is wrong. What if the emphasis on male and female virtue isn't a conservative redefinition? The Chuch didn't strongly assert the Oness of the Trinity until it was denied by the Nestorians. And it didn't clarify the two natures of Christ until the Monophysites challenged it. The Church only stands up to declare something true once someone else claims it is false. Otherwise, the Church usually takes the truth for granted.

What if, then, the new emphasis of male and female virtue is another case where the Church has stood up to say, "Wait. This is what we've always believed!"? What if the Church is warning us about the loss of a fundamental perception of ourselves that has always been our privilege and our right? What if complementarity--the truth of men and women being created by God as perfect physical and spiritual pairs--is true at so basic a level that no one ever bother up to defend it until it was challenged?

I don't know if I'm right. I don't know if I've bought into a reactionary conservative redefinition of my sexuality that encourages me to accept domination and control. But I do know that this image of femininity, that I am a Nycertis naturally equipped to love my husband and children, makes me feel more liberated and happy than the idea that I had to force myself to be like a man ever did. No two human beings have the same set of virtues, but I'll continue to work toward the compassion and love that I believe are the special aptitude of my sex

Staying at Home

I know it's a bit early to think about raising children, but it's been on my mind the past few days.

When we went through our marriage prep course, Adam and I were heavily encouraged to discuss whether or not I would stay home. Adam thinks it is almost absolutely necessary for me to stay home with our children, whereas I'm a little more ambivalent. It's not that we don't agree on the importance of having a mother at home--at least before the kids start school--it's that I'm afraid I may go absolutely stir crazy and feel like a burden, rather than someone who contributes to society.

I couldn't figure out why I felt this way. Women have stayed home with children for thousands of years. Why did I think I was special? Then, reading my old Little House on the Prairie Cookbook, it hit me: staying at home used to be an absolutely vital and valued job.

Prior to the last century, staying at home was undeniably and necessarily a full-time job that contributed to the family and society in many necessary ways. If mom didn't stay home, no one ate vegetables or learned how to read. Without mom, the house was filthy, the family went naked. The elderly and the sick in the community went unfed. No one could doubt the importance of mom in such a role. No mom could feel undervalued or unhelpful. Compare that to today: in our less self-sufficient society, a mom's only necessary roles are nanny and shopper. Where's the sense of value and purpose in that?

It's not that I'm critical of modern stay-at-home moms. In many ways, it's much more of a sacrifice and an admirable thing to do to take a job society-at-large no longer values as it ought. Many, many moms do something great with their time at home with their children--they become far more than the nannies and shoppers society invites them to be. But I think it's obvious now--and I can't believe it never occurred to me before--that women left the home because they no longer felt needed and wanted there. The by-the-book position of "stay-at-home-mom" is merely a vestige of the beautiful and glorious thing it was before.

Adam's right, I know, about the importance of a mother staying home. We were both lucky enough to have mothers who did extraordinary things with their roles--teaching us, taking us to amazing places, serving as active members of the community... I hope, if I think about their examples--and if Adam and I continue to make our home as sustainable and self-sufficient as we can--I can contribute as much as they did to my family and to society and stay at home.

My "Not Me"

Hello, my non-self. Let's get something straight here: my friends don't hate me. You hate me. Go away. I don't like you. I am not the person you want me to be, and I will never be the person you want me to be.

A friend of mine wrote a very interesting blog post a few weeks ago about her "not me." She defined it as a part of herself that occasionally takes control , convincing her that she is unloved and unlovable. I thought the phrase was profoundly true and helped me to explain some of my own experiences.

You see, I have a not me, too. She cyclically affects the way I treat other people, making me grumpy, irritable, and even less tactful than normal. She also makes me cry at the drop of a hat. Worst of all, though, she tricks me into an exaggerated perception of how unfit I am for human companionship. Suddenly, the friendships I felt to be strongest just the day before are threatened: any moment, my closest friends may figure out who I really am and leave me on my own.

In five and a half years of dating, Adam has never gone anywhere.

In fact, it's largely to his credit that I've learned that the "not me" never tells the truth.

Adam used to fight with the "not me" all the time. It isn't his fault. He simply didn't know she existed. I finally admitted her to him. I expected him to bitterly put up with her a few days a month at best or break up with me rather than go through the trouble at worst. He did neither. Instead, he's shown love and support for me at almost every opportunity. He watches for her, for the moments I feel unloved or unworthy, and treats me with a special respect and kindness. He even gently helps me keep my grumpy behavior in check, knowing how painful the memory of it will be to me later.

The best part is, Adam has never once denied that the "not me" exists. He never scoffs at me, or jokes about my "woman troubles." He knows that my feelings and fears are, no matter how artificial, absolutely real to me in the moment. He never ignores the "not me." And he never shows any resentment toward her. He loves her because he loves me, and she's a part of who I am.

"Not me" is a part of my life that may never go away. But because Adam loves her, I, too, have stopped dreading her return quite as much as I once did. It helps to have Adam's outside perspective that, no matter how bad things seem now, everything will be normal again in a few days. Besides, knowing that Adam loves even this worst facet of myself means that my greatest "not me" fears will never come true: with Adam, I'll never truly be alone.

Men and Social Change

Several friends and I have been running a discussion group at the Chaplaincy this term called "Catholicism and Economics." The focus is primarily on distributism, an economic system based around the small and the local. Once again, I'm the only woman in a "serious-minded" discussion group, but, for the very first time in my life, I think the under-representation of my sex may bother me.

At one time in my life I was pleased, honored, and self-congratulatory when I found myself in a male-dominated discussion group. To be surrounded by men, discussing real issues in serious tones with big words seemed like a step forward. I loved to hear people--ie men, and particularly in Washington, DC--discuss the world's problems, and the grandiose, intricate plans they had designed to correct them. This was the same time in my life when I thought that success in life meant being like these men. Someday, I too, would join in the machine of government. I, too, would change the world.

But that was before. Three years of living and working in Washington changed my mind about changing the world. Humans fail. Systems fail. The humans who design systems fail. And Washington, any center of government, goes around in circles creating grand plans on a national level to correct local, human problems.

It really struck me tonight, sitting in the economics discussion group, how very masculine a way of thinking about the world that is. I joined the group to find out how I can make moral economic choices for myself and my family; these men want to start a revolution. How very confident, and mostly admirable, to see a problem and seek to correct it in a sweeping, universal way. The only problem is, I'm increasingly skeptical that any kind of real change comes from the top down. Or at least that that's the way I'm supposed to operate in the world.

Instead, I think I'll choose to change the world in a more feminine way. I'll focus on my own moral choices, and encouraging others to make moral choices also. I'll work--with Adam--to build up a community of people seeking to make moral choices and to live happy lives together. It's an approach based on family, on community, and--I think--part of the woman's vocation as a woman, a wife, and a mother.

Prewedding Goals

If you know me at all, you probably know that I am a goal-oriented "to-do-lister." (It all goes back to middle school leadership development classes... don't ask.) So, last fall, when Adam and I started talking about getting married, I sat down and made a list of "pre-wedding goals." Most of them are fairly reasonable. Get in better shape. Learn to make a loaf of homemade bread. Adam is in favor of these. But he gave me no end of flack for one of my biggest and most difficult self-set tasks: make a another female friend who likes me well enough she would come to my wedding if she could.

So what if it sounds like a silly or self-depricating goal? It doesn't make it any less of a challenge for me.

I can't remember a time in my early life when I haven't had more guy friends than girl friends. Men have always just seemed easier to understand, to get along with. Girls are tough. I'm dreadfully insensitive. And at my worst, my overpowering personality tends to make other women tense, antagonistic, or withdrawn. To make matters worse, it took me years to learn to respect myself as a woman, and therefore other women for what they shared in common with me. It's my fault, not the fault of the entire sex--but it's still a terrible and lamentable weakness.

My time at Brookewood was (and hopefully will be again) an amazing step forward. There, I was in an all-girl environment where feminine virtue was encouraged and praised. And the months I spent in Seattle with the Matilda girls showed me a picture of truly holy living in a uniquely feminine vein. So, hopefully I've come along way.

The real blessing, though, has been here in Oxford. There are many amazing women in my course, in the Chaplaincy, and in my college. Most of them seem really comfortable with who they are in exciting ways. I'm honored to consider them my colleagues... and my friends.

But the biggest surprise has been two friendships I've developed with an sweet English lawyer and a Californian medievalist. I really wasn't sure I was capable of meaningful, feminine relationships with other women. It has been an amazing gift to get to know them. They've both been extremely generous with their time and forgiving of my faults.

Best of all? I've got one earnestly-desired visit and one new wedding guest.