The Spiritual Vixen's Guide to an Unapologetic Life by Maureen Muldoon

Author:Maureen Muldoon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press
Published: 2018-09-02T16:00:00+00:00

My willingness would only take me so far. I had a major road-block—it was my vagina. I had lady parts and ladies played no part in the service as far as I could see. The only time I ever saw a lady on the altar was when they were there to sing a song.

As I got older, I needed to understand the riddle and reasoning behind it all. These questioned tormented me, and in turn, I would torment the nuns.

“Sister, why can’t girls be priests? Why is it just Sunday that we’re supposed to keep holy? Why do you have to dress like that?”

The list of questions went on and on. Most of the time, they would just shake their heads and ignore me, and other times they would furrow their brows and scold me.

“Maureen, don’t be so bold!” I began to equate asking questions with being bold and being bold with being bad. I didn’t get it. I perceived the lack of equality; but, at the same time, my Inner Teacher was whispering that all was perfect. I was confused about why God would give me the desire to be a priest yet place me in a world that made it impossible to fulfill that desire.

I spent both my childhood and adolescence at this church and the school attached to it, being told, “Don’t ask so many questions.” I wanted to understand and make sense of things, even at the risk of having my questions met with frustration and disapproval. I don’t blame the nuns. I’m sure that my curiosity overwhelmed and exhausted them. Yet I couldn’t stop myself; I had questions and I wanted answers!

“You can’t be a priest, Maureen, but you can be a nun.”

“A nun? No offence, sister, but I don’t want to be a nun.” This was met with an icy stare that informed me that I was an inch away from being smacked with a ruler. So after the endless barrage of scolding from the nuns and snickering from the boys, I began to fold up my dreams and surrender my hopes. A lady priest was a blasphemous sacrilegious claim that could get you tossed into hell, or worse, laughed at.

I stopped asking questions and looked back on the menu for socially and spiritually approved careers for curious girls with big mouths and too many questions. That was when I decided to be an actress.

Here I was, years later; in the place that both raised me up and shut me down, dressed as a bridesmaid watching Colleen make her way down the aisle in the pre-requiste white. A symbol of her purity linked not to her soul but her sex, specifically her sexual status. This vesseled virgin escorted to the altar as a presex ritual. Was I the only one seeing this?

“She looks so happy,” Beth whispered.

“Yeah, and sometimes salt looks like sugar,” I whispered back.

Beth gave me an evil eye, and I reminded myself to play nice. I looked out at my beautiful friend, her smile shining even beneath the veil.

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