On a bad day on the inside of my head, of which there were many, my arms were the arms of a gorilla. On better days, they were the arms of a man. On no day at all did they pass as the arms of a female teenager, or indeed a female anything. Except maybe a female gorilla.
This was just one of the many many points on which I failed to meet the spec. I was desperate to bring myself up to it somehow ... but how? Not a clue. I'd picked up some hints about things not to do. For example, attacking the excesses with razors precipitated an increase of future excesses. So ... what exactly? If anyone of my acquaintance was an expert on the subject, they kept that shameful fact appropriately quiet – but, even if I'd known whom to approach, I doubt it would ever have occurred to me that such a drastic measure as asking was a legitimate option.
So I just dragged my gorilla arms around with me, one on each side. And, along with them, the weighty consciousness of them. They (and other body image issues) dictated the way I dressed, the way I sat, the contents of my mind, my social interactions when an other person got it in their heads to try to speak to me.
Eventually, the advertisers reached me (what took you so long, guys? you're normally first on the scene!) with the message of bleaching creams. One less source of crippling anxiety, whoop! but ... one more thing on the to-do list. And the shopping list. (Hmm. Suspicious, much?)
In my old age, I am less inclined to have my lists prescribed by arbitrary social conventions, gender ideals and sales targets. So I have hairy arms. I'm almost disappointed to report that they seem to be less hairy than they used to be (could that be in my head?). Nevermind; they're still hairy enough. But they're not just hairy. They're strong, and useful. They carry heavy shopping. They get the housework done (at least, when the body and mind driving them gets round to willing them to). I suspect they may turn out to be useful for hugging, after some practice.
They are every sinew, strand and follicle a woman's arms: "She dresses herself with strength and makes her arms strong." says King Lemuel's mother, of the 'excellent wife' (Proverbs 31:17).
Indeed, King Lemuel's mother presents a whole host of life-giving, world-transforming, patriarchy-defying attributes and accomplishments for a woman to aspire to. On top of the fore-mentioned physical vigour, this impressive archtype boasts flourishing business ventures (v13-14, 16, 18-19, 24), a partnership-model spousal relationship (v11-12, 23, 28) [1], a happy, well-nurtured family (v11, 15), a compassionate and active responsiveness to need (v20), effective political engagement and influence (v23, 31), eloquent wisdom (v26), creativity (v22), courage and diligence (v25, 27).
I don't mind saying I wouldn't mind being that woman. She is a refreshing change from the shallow, restricted, stereotyped and yet unattainable ideals I usually feel myself under pressure to live up to (/down to?), and on which my younger me wasted so much misery and regret. She's not enslaved to (e.g.) the resource-consuming challenges of excess body hair; rather, fully liberated to expend her time and energies engaging fruitfully with real stuff in the real world. But ... and this is a big but [2] .... there's a danger in receiving such a description as an alternative 'spec' for womanhood. Our value as women, as people, is no more derived from how successfully we conform to profound, ambitious, spiritually-engaged ideals than it is from how successfully we conform to shallow, restrictive, worldly stereotypes.
Our value – women and all people – is simply and exclusively in the fact that God made and loves us. The old 'we did nothing to earn God's love, and we can do nothing to lose it' is so much more than the tired cliché it has come to sound. "... but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8) He didn't wait for us to tick off every item on some checklist prior to 'approving' us; He loved us as we were, as soon as we were, if not before (my theology on that point gets a little hazy).
There's corollaries to this love, and nowhere in the Bible sets them out more repetitively beautifully than John's first letter...
[2] Another physical attribute I was painfully self-conscious of ...
[Thumbnail cc from Eric Kilby on Flickr.]
This was just one of the many many points on which I failed to meet the spec. I was desperate to bring myself up to it somehow ... but how? Not a clue. I'd picked up some hints about things not to do. For example, attacking the excesses with razors precipitated an increase of future excesses. So ... what exactly? If anyone of my acquaintance was an expert on the subject, they kept that shameful fact appropriately quiet – but, even if I'd known whom to approach, I doubt it would ever have occurred to me that such a drastic measure as asking was a legitimate option.
So I just dragged my gorilla arms around with me, one on each side. And, along with them, the weighty consciousness of them. They (and other body image issues) dictated the way I dressed, the way I sat, the contents of my mind, my social interactions when an other person got it in their heads to try to speak to me.
Eventually, the advertisers reached me (what took you so long, guys? you're normally first on the scene!) with the message of bleaching creams. One less source of crippling anxiety, whoop! but ... one more thing on the to-do list. And the shopping list. (Hmm. Suspicious, much?)
They are every sinew, strand and follicle a woman's arms: "She dresses herself with strength and makes her arms strong." says King Lemuel's mother, of the 'excellent wife' (Proverbs 31:17).
Indeed, King Lemuel's mother presents a whole host of life-giving, world-transforming, patriarchy-defying attributes and accomplishments for a woman to aspire to. On top of the fore-mentioned physical vigour, this impressive archtype boasts flourishing business ventures (v13-14, 16, 18-19, 24), a partnership-model spousal relationship (v11-12, 23, 28) [1], a happy, well-nurtured family (v11, 15), a compassionate and active responsiveness to need (v20), effective political engagement and influence (v23, 31), eloquent wisdom (v26), creativity (v22), courage and diligence (v25, 27).
I don't mind saying I wouldn't mind being that woman. She is a refreshing change from the shallow, restricted, stereotyped and yet unattainable ideals I usually feel myself under pressure to live up to (/down to?), and on which my younger me wasted so much misery and regret. She's not enslaved to (e.g.) the resource-consuming challenges of excess body hair; rather, fully liberated to expend her time and energies engaging fruitfully with real stuff in the real world. But ... and this is a big but [2] .... there's a danger in receiving such a description as an alternative 'spec' for womanhood. Our value as women, as people, is no more derived from how successfully we conform to profound, ambitious, spiritually-engaged ideals than it is from how successfully we conform to shallow, restrictive, worldly stereotypes.
Our value – women and all people – is simply and exclusively in the fact that God made and loves us. The old 'we did nothing to earn God's love, and we can do nothing to lose it' is so much more than the tired cliché it has come to sound. "... but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:8) He didn't wait for us to tick off every item on some checklist prior to 'approving' us; He loved us as we were, as soon as we were, if not before (my theology on that point gets a little hazy).
There's corollaries to this love, and nowhere in the Bible sets them out more repetitively beautifully than John's first letter...
So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him. By this is love perfected with us, so that we may have confidence for the day of judgment, because as he is so also are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. We love because he first loved us. If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother. (1 John 4:16-21 ESV)
Loved abundantly and loving with the overflow ... what else is there to aspire to? That's what I see when I read about the Proverbs 31 woman. And I've seen it in the lives of others, women and non-women, right across the spectrum of hirsuteness, and it is knockout beautiful ...
[1] Maybe others would debate this point, but that's how it looks like to me.
[2] Another physical attribute I was painfully self-conscious of ...
[Thumbnail cc from Eric Kilby on Flickr.]
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