I had grown up in the 1950’s and 1960’s, readily listening to the “don’t’s” and “not’s” of the catechism and not really celebrating my “too soon” growing into a woman. One thing I was always sure of – wanting to enter the convent… and I did, right after high school. Oh, I had dated “a little,” and years later had a very strong attraction to a male co-worker, but other than that, relationships and sexuality had not posed great challenges and questions to me. And then, the 40’s came, and my life hasn’t been the same... prayer, intimacy, feelings, loneliness, a greater desire for the feminine. In my 40’s and 50’s I began to discover more questions and desires and challenges to who I thought I was, than I had ever had before! I had wonderful people who journeyed with me, and still do.
I will never forget the day about five years ago when a co-worker in my new ministry (who was also becoming a very good friend) took the risk of confiding in me that she is a lesbian. This did not stop my friendship or change my perception of her; in fact it became an epiphany moment for me and our friendship. A deeper resonance beckoned me to continue my mid-life questions about intimacy and sexuality and to share my feelings more vulnerably with her. I continued ongoing sessions with a counselor, (begun during my ministry change) and continued to explore my inner world with new words of poetry. In the months ahead, other significant changes occurred. One day the following poem quite literally “poured” out of me and so did greater desires for intimacy (or the embrace of my soon-to-be-named lesbian self). It took months before I would even share this with anyone other than my counselor:
I entered eagerly through your doorway,
surprised that I was here
and, oh, so soon delighted!
Tenderly we stroked each other’s face,
looked into eyes
mirroring passion and desire,
suspended in intimate-time.
Layer by layer,
We helped each other
shed clothes, old fears,
bound, hidden selves.
Ah, what beauty we discovered
in nakedness,
in vulnerability.
Layer by layer,
We kissed,
embraced old woundedness
touched deeply the wonder of each other.
Together we birthed new joy
and healing…
Not too many months after this, a woman whom I had gotten to know rather well in ministry told me that she felt very turned on by me. This was flattering to someone who had just turned 50, but also scary because I had begun to feel a strong attraction to her… and had an emotional upheaval of questions about boundaries in ministry, intimacy, and my orientation.
I was grateful that during these experiences I had people to journey with me – my counselor and my close friend who had earlier shared her orientation with me. I had safe places in which to explore my upset and “gut-level” desires. I kept saying to them… “I can’t not go there, can’t avoid asking the questions, can’t pretend they’re not there! Why now, God? Why in my 50’s? All this is so much harder when I’ve been in vows for almost thirty years!” I still felt my call to religious life was authentic, but I needed to live into the reality of it by embracing, not running from, unexplored questions and feelings. I read much later that this mid-life struggle is not uncommon for those who entered religious life in the 60’s!
As I was coming to a deeper understanding of intimacy and sexuality and to claiming my lesbian orientation, I often felt lonely and different in community… as well as very boxed in and “closeted.” I didn’t know any other lesbian religious. This poem expresses some of my struggles at this time:
but other times I find it much too small,
too cluttered with things,
hemmed in with should’s,
too celibate and too single,
one closed door in a long, dark hall
with too many others,
also behind closed doors.
Sometimes… I wish for a home, not a room…
Sometimes I wish for someone else with me,
another’s face and touch to greet me,
gather me into the warmth of home,
another’s arms to hold me as we sleep,
curled in the comfort of evening,
another’s desires to embrace my own,
and let the tender, wilder, much more passionate me,
finally be born!
Yes, more than sometimes, often now,
I wish for another – woman!
I celebrate that awareness of need,
aliveness of passion,
after all these years
of sure, calm celibate answers!
I continued to journey with the questions of my orientation and finally to celebrate both my renewed desire for religious life and my lesbian orientation… and I truly believe that God celebrated this journey too! This wasn’t something I was able to share at the “dinner table” with sisters who felt they could “just look at that Time magazine and tell who was gay/lesbian”! I was able to celebrate my aliveness with my friend and my counselor as well as with a few lesbian sisters in my own community and in others. Then I felt I had really come home! I was able to opt for a healthier living arrangement while still being connected with my sisters. Now I look forward to living again with other sisters in a new local community. I treasure the network of friendship I have with other lesbians – lay and religious. I found the rich treasures of my sexuality and their friendship by literally going into deep waters, as I reflected on in this poem:
someone had plunged headlong
into dark waters.
I felt the rush of body meeting wave as I awoke,
but saw only brilliant light
that split the surface of darkness
and sprayed jeweled light
upwards to the sky.
Someone had plunged into darkness,
but really into light.
Someone had plunged unafraid,
that someone was me,
This hesitant swimmer let go her caution,
slid off the weights of childhood fears,
adult worries.
Finally casting my nets into deeper waters,
I plunged headlong into memories, feelings, desires,
Opened the dark, unlocked treasure-chest,
Found rare and precious jewels
that caught the light,
and found myself.
Mid-life – how do I look and feel so alive? Here is my inner story of struggle and awareness, told in briefer form and with the gift of poetry, to be woven with the story of your own journey, to encourage you in the midst of your journey…
to truly find my heart and voice
To look vulnerably, lovingly
at my own barren spaces
And become Sarah
laughing freely with new life,
tenderly nurturing my own woman-life,
and embracing the warm, rich circle
of my women friends.