Some of my friends make me cry in front of strangers. Others manage to embarrass me without meaning to…
Two mornings ago, I got the following text from one of my dearest friends: “Was told the Goddess might not recognize ‘my kind.’ Gotta love the sisterhood…”
Filled with a mixture of fury and horrification, I replied, “Come again?”
My friend didn’t text back; she called, and explained that her coven—after reading Zsuzsanna Budapest’s call for activation—decided that, perhaps, my friend’s “energy was holding the coven back”.
I cried and cursed at the bus stop. Then again while riding the subway to school—cried, not cursed; there were a child and someone’s great-grandmother within ear range. But I wept into my fist and got a nasty nosebleed. Yes, I was enraged, sickened and disappointed.
I guess I should probably say that my friend started life as a male. By age eleven, my friend already knew the appearance of his flesh didn’t show the shape of her soul. She happens to be the child of two of the most amazing individuals I’ve ever met. They only asked that she waited until she was twenty-one—they wanted her to be sure.
On my friend’s eighteenth birthday, her parents were convinced they had been blessed with a daughter who happened to look like a son. She had surgery eight years after that; the parents gave financial, and more important, emotional support.
Today, my friend is the forty-one-year-old mother of tween daughters and a wee son. She is also the wife of a husband who “knows he can’t dance, but doesn’t care what people think about his moves.” A few days ago, this mother and wife was told that she wasn’t woman enough for her Goddess. The words broke my friend’s heart. Not because she believed the nonsense, but because the hurt came from a group of Witches who meant something to her.
My friend cried for a long time while on the phone with me. I did, too. She, because of sadness; I, because I wished my friend was ruthless enough to tell the so called sisters to shove it. I’m disappointed because I’m always bragging about how Witches are all about equality, love, acceptance… about embracing flesh and spirit as a whole. I know this is just one group of Witches, but their behavior infuriates me anyway.
I’m not sure what’s going to happen between my friend and the coven; neither is she. But I would like to ask you to turn in the general direction of Manila, and send her some healing hugs. She is 5’10”, has black hair, wears a necklace that is falling apart (I made it for her) and her heart is the size of the sun. I would post her picture, but there is always a chance that certain people’s stupidity could turn physical. I’ve seen it happen before, and I would hate to hurt my friend while trying to help.
I almost forgot… you are probably wondering who has “manage to embarrass me without meaning to...” It was either Debra, from She Who Seeks, or Her Royal Highness, I can’t be sure...
Here is how: I had to get myself together after the conversation with my friend, so I was a few minutes late for class. My classmates were quiet and my professor looked busy. Instead of talking, I handed this note to the guy who sits next to me:
|A blank page with a huge question mark in the middle|
The guy leaned closer to me, and whispered, “I’m allergic to cats. And I haven’t tested the theory, but I’m almost certain women would give me hives, too.”
I gave him a puzzled look. He returned the note, which I had written on a page torn from a journal I got from Debra and HRH. I burst into laughter when I read the words printed at the bottom of the page: I wanna be your cat.
In the (very likely) words of my Sweet Zombie Goddess:
“You can’t make this shit up.”