This was such a moving piece, Jeannie. The line that made my heart beat faster was: "I don’t want to be tolerated." That word—tolerated—gah! I've felt it in subtle glances, in long awkward silences, in being invited but not quite included at all the social events hosted by folks from "my Indian community." As someone who's an atheist and a reluctant mom—two identities that often feel misfit in almost all circles—I felt so seen by this story.
I didn’t plan to be a mother. And yet, like you, I love my child with a ferocity that surprises even me. What we expected for ourselves and what we’ve come to cherish is the kind of tension that nobody talks about. So, thank you for giving it language. And for reminding us that kinship can be found in the most unexpected pairings.
You are welcome Jeannie I am happy to meet new friends. I love my social media. I don’t get out that much so I’ve been going through a few heart problems and just had a pacemaker put in last month at 64 and look out for my mom who’s going to be 89 keeps me busy.
Well, James, I truly hope you feel at home in my little Substack space. ❤️ Sounds like you're going through a lot. Your presence is so positive and kind. I want you to know we are sending you lots of hugs! 🫂
Thank you my friends and give my best to Sarah today and let her know that her friends and Jesus are watching over her.. especially on this special Holy Week,, Happy Easter 🐰🐣🐇 Sunday 🍫🍬🍭
"I never really wanted to be a mom, never saw myself as a mom, yet here I am raising five kids. And I love them each fiercely."
I always wanted to be a mom. I just figured it would happen naturally like it did for my mom. and here I am, a few months shy of my 52nd birthday, and I am 100% childless. It was an elixir I quietly swallowed for most of my adult life, just sort of "tolerating" my circumstances (to use Liv's term). And now, as my friends are becoming grandparents, I am grieving, in big ways. Sometimes I find myself envious of you and women like you, but mostly I just look at you with complete awe. At who you are, and how you do. it. all. and love. so. deeply.
I wonder if I missed out on a depth of love in my life because I didn't have kids. Because I never felt pregnancy (my mom tells me that I did).
But then I can always flip my frame and see all the things I had in my life because I wasn't a mom. and all the ways I am a mom still.
thank you for giving me this multi-dimensional reflection on my life as a childless mother.
this piece really got me thinking and feeling, and I just wanted to let you know that it did...and probably not in the way you anticipated it might reach a reader. That's what happens sometimes. you never know how your writing is going to touch someone.
Oh Teri Leigh, I really appreciate everything you shared here. Motherhood is a nuanced and multifaceted construct, and you are right to call yourself a mom, because we mother in many ways throughout our lives.
My spiritual director has spoken to me a lot of the things you shared here about grieving the loss of biological motherhood. And you know something? She is a strong and important maternal presence in my life, so I consider that to be a mother.
You are a mother. I wrote an essay about this last May—”You are a mother because you love” is what it’s called, and it’s on Substack.
When I was a grief writer and speaker, I had a lot of these kinds of conversations, Teri Leigh—about infertility, miscarriage, infant loss, losing the window of pregnancy, etc. It’s a long, painful road for women, no matter where that road leads us.
I want you to know how much I value your honesty about this. It means so much to have you here.
I love this. I'm a conservative Christian and my youngest daughter’s addiction brought me into the homeless community. My oldest daughter said, Mom...you are going to have to change your views on the LGBT community. I'm not sure how she knows what those views are because we have never discussed them but my response was, they are all humans just longing for connection and to be seen and heard. I've shared many conversations on a curb with trans or gay and their stories are the same as everyone's out there. Theyve hung on my shoulders and cried out their pain, loss, and trauma. Not fitting in. Abuse. Abandonment. We need to look past the labels we assign ourselves and see the human behind them. I'm just a mom, loving on other people's kids. And trying to be the hands and feet of Jesus.
Oh this is just so beautiful, Rosemary! I truly believe that the Christian church at large has an obligation to really shift the way we think and behave when it comes to loving others the way Jesus modeled. So many have been hurt by organized religion, and so it’s encouraging to read from you that it’s possible to stay connected to one’s faith while doing the courageous work of walking with those who have been forgotten and abandoned. I feel the same way. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you, Jeannie! I agree. The church has to reorient itself. Have you read Rosario Butterfield's book Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert? There is a quick read from Christianity Today also. MyTrainwreck Conversion. She has much to say to the church on this subject
'"I still love Jesus very much, but I can’t find a church home that will do more than just tolerate me. I don’t want to be tolerated,” Liv says, with emphasis on the word, “I want to be accepted for who I am. But when people find out I’m part of the LGBTQ community, they don’t know what to say or how to act.”'
This is another very moving essay, Jeannie. But my next comment is for Liv, even if she never sees it, maybe someone else that needs these words will see them.
My oldest daughter is a minister. She has a white tee shirt with black words that say, "This ____ loves you." The word in the blank space is rainbow colored letters that spell out the word M I N I S T E R. If you attended the church she is preaching at, or if you attend the church we attend, we would know what to say.
And that is:
Welcome. You are loved and there is always a "place at our table" for you.
My heart aches for any one that cannot find their spiritual home and feel excluded from the one place there should be acceptance. There are churches that are all about love, social justice and making sure there is a "place at the table" for everyone. (In my experience they tend to be liberal protestant churches with a strong social justice ministry.)
Back to you Jeannie, I love your writing, your vulnerability and your ability to be present for people.
Nancy, thank you so much for sharing this. I appreciate learning more about you and your family, too. You're right that we each should find our spiritual home.
I'm working on a piece right now for the summer about how my relationship with religion is complicated. I still love so many aspects of the faith in which I was raised, but I am so deeply saddened by the ways my faith community and the Catholic Church at large has hurt people. It's hard to know what to do with those conflicting feelings.
But what helps is knowing that I can be honest and try to demonstrate that I am still learning and growing, and hearing from you that this matters keeps me showing up.
Jeannie, religion is such a complicated thing, spirituality less so. When "man" got involved with writing down the "words of Gd" unfortunately and unknowingly they injected a bit too much of themselves into the Bible, and all religious writings. How could they not?
We all tend to see the everything from our own perspective.
So religions have all taken on meanings and perspectives from the fallibility of man.
(I am deliberately using the word man, as most of the religious leaders in the formations of religion were men.)
Spirituality is our knowing of matters of the spirit--it is not connected to any particular religion, it is just a deep understanding of whatever the individual believes is their source light.
My dad's Quakerism really is a huge part of my inner belief systems, although when my parents had me, my dad was a minister of music in a Methodist church, so yes there is a bit of John Wesley wrapped into my belief systems as well. Then there is the social justice of the PCUSA (a particular branch of Presbyterianism).
The biggest religious take away comes from my dad and that is there is Gd in all of us and there is Gd all around us. The second biggest take away also comes from my dad and that there is no question you cannot ask. Stay open and reflect on anything anyone tells you about religion. Explore, question, learn, grow in your faith, nothing is sacrosanct.
You matter, your learning and growing matters. You are a gift that keeps giving.
This is such a fascinating discussion, Nancy. I agree that spirituality and religion differ greatly, and I’m trying to determine how I can stay within organized religion while also growing in my personal spirituality. Because I want to stay within religion. I appreciate the liturgy. I appreciate the sacraments. I believe in much of what I was taught in the Catholic Church.
It’s the politics and often the hierarchical power struggles within Catholicism that bother me so much. Clergy abuse, too. Some doctrines that don’t include women in their conversations. Things like that.
I appreciate so much what you shared that your dad taught you about faith, because I believe those things too—that God dwells in every human and that it’s healthy to keep asking those questions and having an open heart. :)
Have you considered exploring other religions, protestant religions? I have no idea what state you live in. I know for myself if the church does not have a strong social justice ministry, it is not for me.
I understand the love of liturgy and sacraments--for me it's more about music--there needs to be an excellent choir I can sing in, but there are aspects of church life that is important.
No matter what you decide, I give you my full support (not that it really matters) of finding what you are looking for. If you ever want to bounce ideas off of someone, I'm your gal (not that you need this-LOL).
Oh, Nancy, of course your support means a lot to me! It means a great deal. Thank you.
It’s quite a long story in and of itself, and I may write about it later (right now I’m working on a series of essays to be published this summer that reveal my origins as a Catholic spirituality writer and why I walked away from it).
Basically, I explored many other Protestant faiths when I was in high school. I always came back to Catholicism. It felt like “home.” This peace that washed over me in silent sanctuaries while I’d gaze at the tabernacles—something stirred in my heart to stay.
I do love the social justice arm of Catholicism, too, which is quite active. I served as the intern for the Catholic Campaign for Human Development in the early 2000s, and it was a great experience.
It sounds like you have discovered a lot about what is right for you. I wish you the very best in finding your religious/spiritual home. I'm always up for being a sounding board.❤️
I think your story resonates with more people than you think. I was raised Catholic and raised my kiddos Catholic. When I got them all raised I switched to the Presbyterian Church and I have loved it ever since. I love its theology. I also had a priest who was into Creation-centered spirituality. Loved that. I have read Hildegarde and other mystical writers. I am also part Native American and have read tons on Native spirituality. So I started Catholic and have gone through many lessons on my road of life. Oh, and also Buddhism. I find that fascinating. Sometimes I feel that I don't belong to a church, but church community is so important to me. 'Berta
Wow, ‘Berta, thank you for sharing all of this. Your story reminds me so much of my neighbor, who is also part Native American. She, too, was raised Catholic. She told me this beautiful story about her son’s funeral, which was held at a Catholic Church on a Native reservation. The priest was Native and was told he could not perform the funeral Mass because they were going to include/incorporate their Native rituals and customs within the liturgy. So the family decided they would do the funeral directly outside of the Catholic Church.
And while my neighbor held her hands out to her side, raising a totem in the air, two red-tailed hawks alighted, one on each side, of her arms! It was a stunning story.
She, too, is multi-religious.
I think there is so much beauty we can find in many world religions. Thanks for sharing your story here.
Your bravery in being able to hear that inner voice, listen to it, and ultimately take action towards it does not go unnoticed here. It makes me angry that the very outfits you were writing for missed or intentionally refused to acknowledge that it was in your recognition of the needs of others that you were MOST like God. Meeting them where they were at, a fundamental tenant of Christianity, feels not just worth of writing about, but necessary.
I am nodding my head as I read your comment, Jess. Yes. I thought about that—not necessarily that MY voice wasn’t being heard, but the fact that it wasn’t made me realize that meant so many MORE people were being silenced! So many beyond me, who were trying to reach the deeper needs of humanity, either had already been or were currently being shut down. That’s what hurt me most of all and broke me. It’s a big reason I chose to sever ties with religious-affiliated writing.
Such a wonderful piece, Jeannie. First, I love how you put yourself there even though you were nervous. And, I love how you made that connection. They happen so serendipitously, often when we least expect it.
That feeling of just being tolerated is one that deeply resonates with me. I know we've talked about being outsiders and rejects before, so I'm once again grateful to you for creating this space for belonging.
Thanks for stopping by to leave such a thoughtful comment, Tiffany. I hear you about the feeling of being tolerated. It’s deeply painful, a form of rejection and even abandonment in a way. To me, it can happen when we do not have a sense of true belonging but rather have been conditioned, either overtly or subtly, to conform to the group (family, peers, etc.) and be more like everyone else.
I just want to say I am glad you are unabashedly YOU!
Great article Jeannie. It sat with me a few days before I got to my response. I get nervous when I mention the J word. I think I'm going to be seen as a bible thumping, people hating, conservative, God fearing, Jesus freak. Instead of a woman in love with learning to love through the essence of Christ Consciousness.
YES, Connie, YES! I feel very similarly. I hesitate to speak openly about my religious faith, because I do not want people to assume that I am excluding their voices and beliefs when, in fact, I want to welcome ALL people in my space, both here and in real life. You mentioned Christ consciousness. Do you read anything by Richard Rohr? I recently finished his newest book, THE TEARS OF THINGS, which was quite beautiful and validating.
It’s really beautiful, Connie. I felt held in his sacred words. He has the ability to speak into where I am in my spiritual walk, which feels safe and affirming.
What a beautiful, life affirming story Jeannie! This is truly the best of life: these seemingly ordinary human connections, when we allow ourselves to be really seen, and see the other. You have made each other feel accepted! I wish life offered more opportunities for us to meet, and see, people we wouldn’t normally see otherwise and have that conversation we wouldn’t normally have. Like this one here. Because, I’m convinced, as your story here demonstrates, that we have far more in common than we would imagine. And maybe then, we can extend each other à true hug. Extending one to you right now!
I totally agree, friend, that we have far more in common with each other than we realize. Human Library helps break down those barriers so that more of these conversations can happen.
I can't wait until you and I meet in person some day. I'm going to give you a big hug!
This entire piece was beautiful. But what stood out to me was, from the moment you realized you didn’t know Liv’s pronouns, you ditched them. You stuck to Liv’s name.
As a mom of a non-binary kiddo, that seemingly tiny thing stands out to me because it’s something that makes a big difference to some people. Big. And you automatically respected it. That’s love.
What an incredible encounter with a lovely soul. I hope you get to reconnect again.
Oh Kim, thank you for saying that. I deeply respect all humans and I'm glad that made an impact. I wanted to be sensitive to the fact that I didn't know and didn't want to assume. It really is the seemingly small things that make a big difference. Thanks for stopping by to let me know this meant something to you. 💜
I love that phrase, Nancy, and you're the second person I've heard use it on Substack: “walking each other home.” It's so beautiful, so tender. I'm glad you're here with me. ♥️
I was particularly struck by your reflection on feeling like an "outlier" or "pariah." It’s a sentiment I think many of us can relate to, whether we admit it or not. We’re often pressured to fit into neat little boxes, to conform to societal expectations, and anything outside those lines is seen as… well, different. And different, in our culture, can feel like a dirty word. But what if those “different” qualities are actually our greatest strengths? What if our refusal to conform is what allows us to connect with others on a deeper level, to offer unique perspectives and insights? Your story is a testament to the beauty and power of embracing our authentic selves, even when it feels uncomfortable or scary.
You’re right, Alex. This was a powerful encounter for me and I think also for Liv. We would have otherwise probably not had this conversation, had it not been for The Human Library. I have an affinity for those who feel that they are outcasts in some way, because even though I am incredibly privileged as a white, hetero-, middle class, educated woman, I have felt the interior poverty of rejection and ostracism. And being a woman in itself is a sort of marginalization, too.
It means a lot to have you stay with me as I continue to share what I am learning and (hopefully) growing into. In the coming months, my pieces will be increasingly vulnerable about the things I struggle with, and I’m terrified to put those stories out there. But it helps to know I have friends like you who are out there, willing to walk with me, as I am (hopefully) walking with you.
Wow, Jeaannie, this piece was so poignant. We -- all members of the human family -- have so much more in common than differences. I wish society would see that people are simply that -- people. It sounds like your interaction with this mom was fruitful for both of you.
I always wanted to be a mother, but when I got married, I wanted to wait awhile. I did get pregnant, but miscarried, which was heart-breaking for me. Turns out, I had breast cancer at the time but didn't know it yet, and if I carried the baby to term, the cancer could've spread. As you know, I adopted my daughter from China a few years after my divorce was finalized.
Like you, I love my daughter fiercely. But there's no manual for how to raise a child properly. And I find I'm plagued with doubts. Did I offer the right advice? Does my daughter seem confident enough? When I did such and such, was I right, wrong, or somewhere in between? Parenthood is hard.
At the same time (I noticed some of the comments on this post), being parental is not limited to one's children. When I was teaching, I felt very parental and protective of my students. I still feel somewhat parental toward my former students, who are now grown, often with kids of their own.
Oh Beth, I love how much you opened up here today! Your vulnerability shines. I want you to know I received it all and am holding it in my heart.
So much of what you wrote is absolutely relatable. I think every mom asks some variation of the questions you listed here, and you're right - fertility is something we don't often open up about. Especially surrounding miscarriage.
I am delighted that you've stuck with me this far and am really enjoying getting to know you more personally.
I’m just glad to hear that the people who stop by my Substack space feel as you described—safe and welcome to open up. It’s encouraging. Thank you, Beth.
You have such a sensitive heart Jeannie. And I love you telling a story about the Human Library. I've heard of it before but didn't understand it and now I do.
I’m glad you want to know more about the Human Library, Sam. And it feels good to be with you as another sensitive soul, because I know you get what it’s like to be in this world with a deep feeling heart.
The invitation from your heart is so vast, Jeannie. I imagine those that feel the opposite of belonging can see it, sense it, maybe even smell it. I would read your book if for no other reason than to aren’t to feel more comfortable in my own story. That’s the initiation of your pages. Thank you. 🙏
What you said here means a lot, Jess. I feel so leery of sharing this part of my background, but I am slowly beginning to open up more about my origins as a branded Catholic author and why I have chosen to walk away from that and expand into writing for the mainstream. For a long time, I convinced myself that no one would give my story a chance, as soon as they learned about my history. Now I am seeing that maybe that isn't the case, and hearing this from you helps me be brave about the parts of my life I've kept hidden away. Thank you, friend.
I'm so glad you've chosen to be brave. Your example here will mean so much to others, and your words and presence are so inviting, that I cannot imagine any outcome other than a greater collective of story telling. I, for one, am always interested in hearing more about your story, and through that invitation, feel more confident sharing my own - the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Wow, Jess, that is such a privilege to know that I am walking alongside you in this way so that you can continue to share your story, too. We are truly kindred souls, I think, if we can support each other emotionally from a distance. I have long awaited for this type of support, Jess. For YEARS. And I want you to know how refreshing it is to have found it in you.
That means a lot to me, Jeannie. Since starting to write openly about my experience with trauma and the hard walk back here on Substack, I've been gobsmacked by the authenticity and generosity of the community here. It makes me want to give in kind, and I am grateful and honored to be that kind of space for you.
Yes, Substack seems to be a unique digital space for kindness and compassion. It is a welcome reprieve after the divisive culture on other social channels. Grateful to be here with you, too, Jess.
This was such a moving piece, Jeannie. The line that made my heart beat faster was: "I don’t want to be tolerated." That word—tolerated—gah! I've felt it in subtle glances, in long awkward silences, in being invited but not quite included at all the social events hosted by folks from "my Indian community." As someone who's an atheist and a reluctant mom—two identities that often feel misfit in almost all circles—I felt so seen by this story.
I didn’t plan to be a mother. And yet, like you, I love my child with a ferocity that surprises even me. What we expected for ourselves and what we’ve come to cherish is the kind of tension that nobody talks about. So, thank you for giving it language. And for reminding us that kinship can be found in the most unexpected pairings.
I thoroughly enjoyed the diversity of this short story.
I'm glad to hear that, James. Thanks for taking the time to let me know.
You are welcome Jeannie I am happy to meet new friends. I love my social media. I don’t get out that much so I’ve been going through a few heart problems and just had a pacemaker put in last month at 64 and look out for my mom who’s going to be 89 keeps me busy.
Well, James, I truly hope you feel at home in my little Substack space. ❤️ Sounds like you're going through a lot. Your presence is so positive and kind. I want you to know we are sending you lots of hugs! 🫂
Thank you my friends and give my best to Sarah today and let her know that her friends and Jesus are watching over her.. especially on this special Holy Week,, Happy Easter 🐰🐣🐇 Sunday 🍫🍬🍭
Happy Easter, James! Thank you for this inspiring message.
💛🩵🩷💚🧡🙏🏼🙏🏻
my heart skipped when I read this part
"I never really wanted to be a mom, never saw myself as a mom, yet here I am raising five kids. And I love them each fiercely."
I always wanted to be a mom. I just figured it would happen naturally like it did for my mom. and here I am, a few months shy of my 52nd birthday, and I am 100% childless. It was an elixir I quietly swallowed for most of my adult life, just sort of "tolerating" my circumstances (to use Liv's term). And now, as my friends are becoming grandparents, I am grieving, in big ways. Sometimes I find myself envious of you and women like you, but mostly I just look at you with complete awe. At who you are, and how you do. it. all. and love. so. deeply.
I wonder if I missed out on a depth of love in my life because I didn't have kids. Because I never felt pregnancy (my mom tells me that I did).
But then I can always flip my frame and see all the things I had in my life because I wasn't a mom. and all the ways I am a mom still.
thank you for giving me this multi-dimensional reflection on my life as a childless mother.
this piece really got me thinking and feeling, and I just wanted to let you know that it did...and probably not in the way you anticipated it might reach a reader. That's what happens sometimes. you never know how your writing is going to touch someone.
Oh Teri Leigh, I really appreciate everything you shared here. Motherhood is a nuanced and multifaceted construct, and you are right to call yourself a mom, because we mother in many ways throughout our lives.
My spiritual director has spoken to me a lot of the things you shared here about grieving the loss of biological motherhood. And you know something? She is a strong and important maternal presence in my life, so I consider that to be a mother.
You are a mother. I wrote an essay about this last May—”You are a mother because you love” is what it’s called, and it’s on Substack.
When I was a grief writer and speaker, I had a lot of these kinds of conversations, Teri Leigh—about infertility, miscarriage, infant loss, losing the window of pregnancy, etc. It’s a long, painful road for women, no matter where that road leads us.
I want you to know how much I value your honesty about this. It means so much to have you here.
It means a lot to be here and to be your friend.
Likewise. 🙏💜
I love this. I'm a conservative Christian and my youngest daughter’s addiction brought me into the homeless community. My oldest daughter said, Mom...you are going to have to change your views on the LGBT community. I'm not sure how she knows what those views are because we have never discussed them but my response was, they are all humans just longing for connection and to be seen and heard. I've shared many conversations on a curb with trans or gay and their stories are the same as everyone's out there. Theyve hung on my shoulders and cried out their pain, loss, and trauma. Not fitting in. Abuse. Abandonment. We need to look past the labels we assign ourselves and see the human behind them. I'm just a mom, loving on other people's kids. And trying to be the hands and feet of Jesus.
Oh this is just so beautiful, Rosemary! I truly believe that the Christian church at large has an obligation to really shift the way we think and behave when it comes to loving others the way Jesus modeled. So many have been hurt by organized religion, and so it’s encouraging to read from you that it’s possible to stay connected to one’s faith while doing the courageous work of walking with those who have been forgotten and abandoned. I feel the same way. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you, Jeannie! I agree. The church has to reorient itself. Have you read Rosario Butterfield's book Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert? There is a quick read from Christianity Today also. MyTrainwreck Conversion. She has much to say to the church on this subject
No I haven't, but thanks for the recommendation! I think it's important to have these conversations.
'"I still love Jesus very much, but I can’t find a church home that will do more than just tolerate me. I don’t want to be tolerated,” Liv says, with emphasis on the word, “I want to be accepted for who I am. But when people find out I’m part of the LGBTQ community, they don’t know what to say or how to act.”'
This is another very moving essay, Jeannie. But my next comment is for Liv, even if she never sees it, maybe someone else that needs these words will see them.
My oldest daughter is a minister. She has a white tee shirt with black words that say, "This ____ loves you." The word in the blank space is rainbow colored letters that spell out the word M I N I S T E R. If you attended the church she is preaching at, or if you attend the church we attend, we would know what to say.
And that is:
Welcome. You are loved and there is always a "place at our table" for you.
My heart aches for any one that cannot find their spiritual home and feel excluded from the one place there should be acceptance. There are churches that are all about love, social justice and making sure there is a "place at the table" for everyone. (In my experience they tend to be liberal protestant churches with a strong social justice ministry.)
Back to you Jeannie, I love your writing, your vulnerability and your ability to be present for people.
Nancy, thank you so much for sharing this. I appreciate learning more about you and your family, too. You're right that we each should find our spiritual home.
I'm working on a piece right now for the summer about how my relationship with religion is complicated. I still love so many aspects of the faith in which I was raised, but I am so deeply saddened by the ways my faith community and the Catholic Church at large has hurt people. It's hard to know what to do with those conflicting feelings.
But what helps is knowing that I can be honest and try to demonstrate that I am still learning and growing, and hearing from you that this matters keeps me showing up.
Jeannie, religion is such a complicated thing, spirituality less so. When "man" got involved with writing down the "words of Gd" unfortunately and unknowingly they injected a bit too much of themselves into the Bible, and all religious writings. How could they not?
We all tend to see the everything from our own perspective.
So religions have all taken on meanings and perspectives from the fallibility of man.
(I am deliberately using the word man, as most of the religious leaders in the formations of religion were men.)
Spirituality is our knowing of matters of the spirit--it is not connected to any particular religion, it is just a deep understanding of whatever the individual believes is their source light.
My dad's Quakerism really is a huge part of my inner belief systems, although when my parents had me, my dad was a minister of music in a Methodist church, so yes there is a bit of John Wesley wrapped into my belief systems as well. Then there is the social justice of the PCUSA (a particular branch of Presbyterianism).
The biggest religious take away comes from my dad and that is there is Gd in all of us and there is Gd all around us. The second biggest take away also comes from my dad and that there is no question you cannot ask. Stay open and reflect on anything anyone tells you about religion. Explore, question, learn, grow in your faith, nothing is sacrosanct.
You matter, your learning and growing matters. You are a gift that keeps giving.
💙💛💙
This is such a fascinating discussion, Nancy. I agree that spirituality and religion differ greatly, and I’m trying to determine how I can stay within organized religion while also growing in my personal spirituality. Because I want to stay within religion. I appreciate the liturgy. I appreciate the sacraments. I believe in much of what I was taught in the Catholic Church.
It’s the politics and often the hierarchical power struggles within Catholicism that bother me so much. Clergy abuse, too. Some doctrines that don’t include women in their conversations. Things like that.
I appreciate so much what you shared that your dad taught you about faith, because I believe those things too—that God dwells in every human and that it’s healthy to keep asking those questions and having an open heart. :)
Have you considered exploring other religions, protestant religions? I have no idea what state you live in. I know for myself if the church does not have a strong social justice ministry, it is not for me.
I understand the love of liturgy and sacraments--for me it's more about music--there needs to be an excellent choir I can sing in, but there are aspects of church life that is important.
No matter what you decide, I give you my full support (not that it really matters) of finding what you are looking for. If you ever want to bounce ideas off of someone, I'm your gal (not that you need this-LOL).
Oh, Nancy, of course your support means a lot to me! It means a great deal. Thank you.
It’s quite a long story in and of itself, and I may write about it later (right now I’m working on a series of essays to be published this summer that reveal my origins as a Catholic spirituality writer and why I walked away from it).
Basically, I explored many other Protestant faiths when I was in high school. I always came back to Catholicism. It felt like “home.” This peace that washed over me in silent sanctuaries while I’d gaze at the tabernacles—something stirred in my heart to stay.
I do love the social justice arm of Catholicism, too, which is quite active. I served as the intern for the Catholic Campaign for Human Development in the early 2000s, and it was a great experience.
It sounds like you have discovered a lot about what is right for you. I wish you the very best in finding your religious/spiritual home. I'm always up for being a sounding board.❤️
I think your story resonates with more people than you think. I was raised Catholic and raised my kiddos Catholic. When I got them all raised I switched to the Presbyterian Church and I have loved it ever since. I love its theology. I also had a priest who was into Creation-centered spirituality. Loved that. I have read Hildegarde and other mystical writers. I am also part Native American and have read tons on Native spirituality. So I started Catholic and have gone through many lessons on my road of life. Oh, and also Buddhism. I find that fascinating. Sometimes I feel that I don't belong to a church, but church community is so important to me. 'Berta
Wow, ‘Berta, thank you for sharing all of this. Your story reminds me so much of my neighbor, who is also part Native American. She, too, was raised Catholic. She told me this beautiful story about her son’s funeral, which was held at a Catholic Church on a Native reservation. The priest was Native and was told he could not perform the funeral Mass because they were going to include/incorporate their Native rituals and customs within the liturgy. So the family decided they would do the funeral directly outside of the Catholic Church.
And while my neighbor held her hands out to her side, raising a totem in the air, two red-tailed hawks alighted, one on each side, of her arms! It was a stunning story.
She, too, is multi-religious.
I think there is so much beauty we can find in many world religions. Thanks for sharing your story here.
Your bravery in being able to hear that inner voice, listen to it, and ultimately take action towards it does not go unnoticed here. It makes me angry that the very outfits you were writing for missed or intentionally refused to acknowledge that it was in your recognition of the needs of others that you were MOST like God. Meeting them where they were at, a fundamental tenant of Christianity, feels not just worth of writing about, but necessary.
I am nodding my head as I read your comment, Jess. Yes. I thought about that—not necessarily that MY voice wasn’t being heard, but the fact that it wasn’t made me realize that meant so many MORE people were being silenced! So many beyond me, who were trying to reach the deeper needs of humanity, either had already been or were currently being shut down. That’s what hurt me most of all and broke me. It’s a big reason I chose to sever ties with religious-affiliated writing.
Such a wonderful piece, Jeannie. First, I love how you put yourself there even though you were nervous. And, I love how you made that connection. They happen so serendipitously, often when we least expect it.
That feeling of just being tolerated is one that deeply resonates with me. I know we've talked about being outsiders and rejects before, so I'm once again grateful to you for creating this space for belonging.
Thanks for stopping by to leave such a thoughtful comment, Tiffany. I hear you about the feeling of being tolerated. It’s deeply painful, a form of rejection and even abandonment in a way. To me, it can happen when we do not have a sense of true belonging but rather have been conditioned, either overtly or subtly, to conform to the group (family, peers, etc.) and be more like everyone else.
I just want to say I am glad you are unabashedly YOU!
I’m glad you are, too!
Great article Jeannie. It sat with me a few days before I got to my response. I get nervous when I mention the J word. I think I'm going to be seen as a bible thumping, people hating, conservative, God fearing, Jesus freak. Instead of a woman in love with learning to love through the essence of Christ Consciousness.
YES, Connie, YES! I feel very similarly. I hesitate to speak openly about my religious faith, because I do not want people to assume that I am excluding their voices and beliefs when, in fact, I want to welcome ALL people in my space, both here and in real life. You mentioned Christ consciousness. Do you read anything by Richard Rohr? I recently finished his newest book, THE TEARS OF THINGS, which was quite beautiful and validating.
Love Richard Rohr! I'll have to get his new book 🙏
It’s really beautiful, Connie. I felt held in his sacred words. He has the ability to speak into where I am in my spiritual walk, which feels safe and affirming.
What a beautiful, life affirming story Jeannie! This is truly the best of life: these seemingly ordinary human connections, when we allow ourselves to be really seen, and see the other. You have made each other feel accepted! I wish life offered more opportunities for us to meet, and see, people we wouldn’t normally see otherwise and have that conversation we wouldn’t normally have. Like this one here. Because, I’m convinced, as your story here demonstrates, that we have far more in common than we would imagine. And maybe then, we can extend each other à true hug. Extending one to you right now!
I totally agree, friend, that we have far more in common with each other than we realize. Human Library helps break down those barriers so that more of these conversations can happen.
I can't wait until you and I meet in person some day. I'm going to give you a big hug!
Same here my friend!
This entire piece was beautiful. But what stood out to me was, from the moment you realized you didn’t know Liv’s pronouns, you ditched them. You stuck to Liv’s name.
As a mom of a non-binary kiddo, that seemingly tiny thing stands out to me because it’s something that makes a big difference to some people. Big. And you automatically respected it. That’s love.
What an incredible encounter with a lovely soul. I hope you get to reconnect again.
Oh Kim, thank you for saying that. I deeply respect all humans and I'm glad that made an impact. I wanted to be sensitive to the fact that I didn't know and didn't want to assume. It really is the seemingly small things that make a big difference. Thanks for stopping by to let me know this meant something to you. 💜
Such a beautiful reminder, Jeannie, that we are all walking each other home. 💖
I love that phrase, Nancy, and you're the second person I've heard use it on Substack: “walking each other home.” It's so beautiful, so tender. I'm glad you're here with me. ♥️
I was particularly struck by your reflection on feeling like an "outlier" or "pariah." It’s a sentiment I think many of us can relate to, whether we admit it or not. We’re often pressured to fit into neat little boxes, to conform to societal expectations, and anything outside those lines is seen as… well, different. And different, in our culture, can feel like a dirty word. But what if those “different” qualities are actually our greatest strengths? What if our refusal to conform is what allows us to connect with others on a deeper level, to offer unique perspectives and insights? Your story is a testament to the beauty and power of embracing our authentic selves, even when it feels uncomfortable or scary.
Thank you for sharing such a moving piece.
You’re right, Alex. This was a powerful encounter for me and I think also for Liv. We would have otherwise probably not had this conversation, had it not been for The Human Library. I have an affinity for those who feel that they are outcasts in some way, because even though I am incredibly privileged as a white, hetero-, middle class, educated woman, I have felt the interior poverty of rejection and ostracism. And being a woman in itself is a sort of marginalization, too.
It means a lot to have you stay with me as I continue to share what I am learning and (hopefully) growing into. In the coming months, my pieces will be increasingly vulnerable about the things I struggle with, and I’m terrified to put those stories out there. But it helps to know I have friends like you who are out there, willing to walk with me, as I am (hopefully) walking with you.
Wow, Jeaannie, this piece was so poignant. We -- all members of the human family -- have so much more in common than differences. I wish society would see that people are simply that -- people. It sounds like your interaction with this mom was fruitful for both of you.
I always wanted to be a mother, but when I got married, I wanted to wait awhile. I did get pregnant, but miscarried, which was heart-breaking for me. Turns out, I had breast cancer at the time but didn't know it yet, and if I carried the baby to term, the cancer could've spread. As you know, I adopted my daughter from China a few years after my divorce was finalized.
Like you, I love my daughter fiercely. But there's no manual for how to raise a child properly. And I find I'm plagued with doubts. Did I offer the right advice? Does my daughter seem confident enough? When I did such and such, was I right, wrong, or somewhere in between? Parenthood is hard.
At the same time (I noticed some of the comments on this post), being parental is not limited to one's children. When I was teaching, I felt very parental and protective of my students. I still feel somewhat parental toward my former students, who are now grown, often with kids of their own.
Oh Beth, I love how much you opened up here today! Your vulnerability shines. I want you to know I received it all and am holding it in my heart.
So much of what you wrote is absolutely relatable. I think every mom asks some variation of the questions you listed here, and you're right - fertility is something we don't often open up about. Especially surrounding miscarriage.
I am delighted that you've stuck with me this far and am really enjoying getting to know you more personally.
Glad this post spoke to you as a mom, too. 💜
Thank you so much, Jeannie, for encouraging conversations in a safe space. It allows people to open up and feel comfortable doing so.
I’m just glad to hear that the people who stop by my Substack space feel as you described—safe and welcome to open up. It’s encouraging. Thank you, Beth.
You have such a sensitive heart Jeannie. And I love you telling a story about the Human Library. I've heard of it before but didn't understand it and now I do.
I’m glad you want to know more about the Human Library, Sam. And it feels good to be with you as another sensitive soul, because I know you get what it’s like to be in this world with a deep feeling heart.
The invitation from your heart is so vast, Jeannie. I imagine those that feel the opposite of belonging can see it, sense it, maybe even smell it. I would read your book if for no other reason than to aren’t to feel more comfortable in my own story. That’s the initiation of your pages. Thank you. 🙏
What you said here means a lot, Jess. I feel so leery of sharing this part of my background, but I am slowly beginning to open up more about my origins as a branded Catholic author and why I have chosen to walk away from that and expand into writing for the mainstream. For a long time, I convinced myself that no one would give my story a chance, as soon as they learned about my history. Now I am seeing that maybe that isn't the case, and hearing this from you helps me be brave about the parts of my life I've kept hidden away. Thank you, friend.
I'm so glad you've chosen to be brave. Your example here will mean so much to others, and your words and presence are so inviting, that I cannot imagine any outcome other than a greater collective of story telling. I, for one, am always interested in hearing more about your story, and through that invitation, feel more confident sharing my own - the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Wow, Jess, that is such a privilege to know that I am walking alongside you in this way so that you can continue to share your story, too. We are truly kindred souls, I think, if we can support each other emotionally from a distance. I have long awaited for this type of support, Jess. For YEARS. And I want you to know how refreshing it is to have found it in you.
That means a lot to me, Jeannie. Since starting to write openly about my experience with trauma and the hard walk back here on Substack, I've been gobsmacked by the authenticity and generosity of the community here. It makes me want to give in kind, and I am grateful and honored to be that kind of space for you.
Yes, Substack seems to be a unique digital space for kindness and compassion. It is a welcome reprieve after the divisive culture on other social channels. Grateful to be here with you, too, Jess.