It was my second year of law school and life was exciting. The woman that was too afraid to speak till I was sixteen (as my Mother once shared with my upstairs neighbor Rick) now got on her soap box about everything female and everything unjust. Which was just about everything that existed, particularly men. The year was 1975, and God was woman! Hear me roar. So said Helen Reddy in the 1972 classic “I Am Woman,” which became a feminist anthem. Just ask Gloria Steinem, Bella Abzug, and Betty Friedan.
My mouth was bigger than I was. Outside I was tiny, thin, feisty, smart, confident, and boisterous. Inside I was huge, lonely, and had a hole the size of the Grand Canyon growing next to my heart. Growing exponentially larger daily. Denial can be as dangerous to one’s soul as an undetected tumor is to one’s body. Though that’s for another day and another lifetime. Books were my refuge and Black’s Law Dictionary the biggest one I could find. If it was in print, in black and white, it must be accurate, it must be true, it must be authentic. Have you never read The Old Testament?
We had so many women’s lib discussions my friends and I. It was as if the Women’s Liberation Movement gave women a chance to exhale for the first time in five thousand years. There are always a few non believers; though for most of us who do believe, we were sure she was female. Finally, after millenniums our time had come. Our voices would be heard, even listened to by the disbelievers. We would surely be acknowledged and conclusively understood.
All my friends, except one – Robin Miller. Robin used to say, not only was she positive that God was not female, she was certain to her core that God was a man. When I asked her once why she was so sure that God was a man, the neo-natal nurse who worked the night shift in the emergency room of Long Beach Memorial for twenty years laughed out loud and said, “If God were a woman we’d have been born with zippers.”
All rights reserved. ©2009 by Sara Fryd