Well, hot dang, y’all. I finished my memoir this year. It’ll be available in January 2018.
I actually started working on it during Lent of 2015, so I’ve been working on this for over three years. That was a long three years. I’m really excited to finally be done. Well, done with this book. I’m just getting started on a novel.
Earlier this year, I started retro-blogging my way through the late 90s. You can check that out at 90s Youth Group Girl. If you’re looking for a true crime blog with snarky posts about purity culture and prosperity gospel stuff, along with a dope 90s soundtrack, that’s where you’ll find it.
I also watched Wonder Woman something like 50 times, and I’m pretty sure that’s what kept me sane.
Top Five Most Viewed Posts of 2017
We know, on an intellectual level, that the statistics indicate we do have predators within our circles, but we still have a hard time believing it when a predator is unmasked.
Because we want to believe we are the kind of people who would know evil when we saw it. Because if such evil was right in front of us, and we didn’t recognize it, what does that say about us?
When Diana declares she’s going to do something about it, no matter the risk, and she climbs up that ladder, while the men are yelling, “No!” not even because they want to keep her in her place, but because they’re genuinely concerned for her, it’s a moment that resonates with so many of us.
How many times are we told “don’t”? It’s not safe. We’ll get hurt.
But Diana does it anyway.
And that’s when something really amazing happens.
Well-meaning people, who don’t fully understand the situation, can offer dangerous advice. There are different types of stalkers, each with their own levels of risk. You can’t handle every stalker in the same way. And what you see on TV isn’t how these situations play out in real life.
The suspicion that we might get up to something gave us the impression that we were dangerous to one another. The lack of trust was insulting. The idea that my awkward self might tempt him down some dark, sexually deviant road was mortifying.
I wasn’t Kristy in that moment. I wasn’t a sister in Christ, which is how Christian men should see me. I was a female body that could be the object of sinful lust. I was something to be protected from.
I pulled stories from my own experiences to try to tell a much bigger story. It’s not my story. It’s our story.
It’s about how women are objectified inside the church and outside the church. It’s about how our allies, the “good guys,” so often turn out to be the guys who hurt us. It’s about how our communities are complicit and turn away from us rather than addressing these issues and solving the problem. Because women are disposable. Because we’re less than. Because supporting us isn’t worth experiencing a little conflict.
Image credit: Sonja und Jens (Creative Commons)