Imagine a Woman

Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is woman.
A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.
Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.

Imagine a woman who has acknowledged the past's influence on the present.
A woman who has walked through her past.
IAW Who has healed into the present.

Imagine a woman in love with her own body.
A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.
Who celebrates her body's rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.

Imagine a woman who embraces her sexuality as her own.
A woman who delights in pleasuring herself.
Who experiences her erotic sensations without shame or guilt.

Imagine a woman who honors the body of the Goddess in her changing body.
A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.
Who refuses to use her precious life-energy disguising the changes in her body and life.

Imagine a woman who has access to the full range of human emotion.
A woman who expresses her feelings clearly and directly.
Who allows them to pass through her as gracefully as the breath.

Imagine a woman who tells the truth.
A woman who trusts her experience of the world and expresses it.
Who refuses to defer to the thoughts, perceptions, and responses of others.

Imagine a woman who follows her creative impulses.
A woman who produces original creations.
Who refuses to color inside someone else's lines.

Imagine a woman who names her own gods.
A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.
Who designs a personal spirituality to inform her daily life.

Imagine a woman who refuses to surrender to gods, gurus, and higher powers.
A woman who has descended into her own inner life.
Who asserts her will in harmony with its impulses and instincts.

Imagine a woman who is interested in her own life.
A woman who embraces her life as teacher, healer, and challenge.
Who is grateful for the ordinary moments of beauty and grace.

Imagine a woman who authors her own life.
A woman who trusts her inner sense of what is right for her.
Who refuses to twist her life out of shape to meet the expectations of others.

Imagine a woman who participates in her own life.
A woman who meets each challenge with creativity.
Who takes action on her own behalf with clarity and strength.

Imagine a woman who has crafted a fully formed solitude.
A woman who is available to herself.
Who chooses friends and lovers with the capacity to respect her solitude.

Imagine a woman who refuses to diminish her life so others will feel better.
A woman who brings the fullness of her years, experience, and wisdom into each relationship.
Who expects others to be blessed and challenged by her presence in their lives.

Imagine a woman who assumes equality in her relationships.
A woman who no longer believes she is inferior to men and in need of their salvation.
Who has taken her rightful place in the human community.

Imagine a woman who refuses to use her precious life-energy managing crisis and conflict.
A woman whose relationships deepen in satisfaction and contentment without depleting her.
Who chooses friends and lovers with the capacity to navigate the challenges of life.

Imagine a woman who values the women in her life.
A woman who sits in circles of women.
Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.

Imagine a woman who has relinquished the desire for intellectual safety and approval.
A woman who makes a powerful statement with every word she speaks, every action she takes.
Who asserts to herself the right to reorder the world.

Imagine a woman who has grown in knowledge and love of herself.
A woman who has vowed faithfulness to her own life and capacities.
Who remains loyal to herself. Regardless.

Imagine yourself as this woman.

by Patricia Lynn Reilly

Trust in God

The one thing I did get from my Fourth step was a realization about my trust level in God.

I have been thinking about this a lot these last few days. I consider myself a spiritual person and both the Muslim and Christian faiths are very important to me. But I realized that I have not been trusting in God. I think somewhere I have this belief that God will not completely take care of me, and I know that goes back to my childhood.

I have depended too much on my husband to take care of me. I wish I would have taken back the reigns to my life sooner. I think what they say about turning the alcoholic into our god was true for me.

Life was often unpredictable and scary for me. I would stay up all night worrying about what he would do instead of praying to God for guidance and help. I can remember very few times when I prayed and asked God for help. The Serenity Prayer has always worked for me, but I often get out of the habit of using it.

Having my own children was very healing for me. I went to a therapist during my entire pregnancy with my son, and got a lot of issues resolved from childhood. But having children also taught me tremendous grace towards my own parents. I realize now how hard they worked and appreciate their many sacrifices.

I think both of my parents are wonderful and kind people. I believe they truly did the best they could throughout my childhood (sometimes much more).

I had some resentments prior to having my daughter toward my mother that I have since resolved. The conclusion that I have come to on both parents is that they both married way too young and, once divorced, married again way too soon.

After being a single mom, I can understand now why they both remarried again so quickly. It is very, very hard to suddenly do everything (well) on your own. Every day, I feel I have failed my children on some level. I don't believe that raising children is a one-person job.

I do not blame my parents anymore. I do not think I would not make the same choice however.

My relationship with both my step parents was difficult. I do not speak to either step parent anymore, and I have no desire to. Any abuse I suffered as a child was at the hands of a step parent. I used to blame my parents for not protecting me better, but I now know that abusive people conduct their abuse in secret. Silence is their weapon.

I do think that the abuse you suffer as a child sets you up to attract further abuse. I don't think that had my parents stayed together, I would have made the same choices in my marriage. (Neither of my parents were abusive people.) That said, I accept that things are now as they are. I used to dream as a child that my parents would get back together, but as an adult I see that they were never right for each other. I would not have wanted my parents to stay together for my sake and be unhappy. I hope to make good choices from my experience so that my children will have a different experience.

I made the decision long ago that I did not want to have step parents for my children, and that I also did not want to be a step parent myself. I think it is a nearly impossible job. You will never replace the parent, no matter how hard you try. I do have empathy now for both of my step parents and I have forgiven them. But I am also not in a place now where I want to have contact with either of them. I do not want the negative energy in my life.

I realized the other day that I have been very closed-minded about all of this. Even my father-in-law told me several times when things were very bad with my husband that I should remarry and find a nice stepfather for the kids. I told him emphatically that I did not want to do that.

I think I have been living in fear about all the what-ifs that could happen with my kids. They are so precious and I want to protect them - but not smother them.

I think that is one reason I have tried so hard to protect my children and control the outcomes of who can be around them and in what regard. I have this gnawing fear about letting anyone who could possibly hurt my children around them. I know from experience, that unkind words hurt long after they are said.

I think I somehow had the feeling growing up that if I became more and more religious (Christian at that time) that God would protect me. I went to church nearly every day and was always reading my Bible and praying. I thought that the better person or Christian I was, the more God would favor me and protect me.

That did not happen, and as I went into my 20's, I hit a wall with my faith. I could not believe at all. I cried and prayed about it, but I could not believe anymore. I became an atheist for a time.

It was not until I met my first husband that I regained any spirituality. I was so taken with Islam - (secretly at first, as I took pride in being an atheist and not needing God anymore). But as time went on, I decided that I wanted to study Islam, (only intellectually at first) and then it became deeply spiritual for me.

As life progressed, I realized that I was also free to go back to some of my Christian beliefs and services. I do not have to be in a "Muslim" or "Atheist" box. I began to feel very good about my spirituality. I did not feel trapped and I did not have that worry of going to hell that I did growing up.

Children have an innocence about them that is so beautiful. There is no fear in their love or their belief. As life goes on, sometimes that is tainted, and we lose our faith. Or we believe that we have to be "just so" for God to love us. (Or even for us to love ourselves.)

What I like about my current beliefs is that I don't "try" to be a Christian or a Muslim or anything. I just am. And that is good enough.

While I think I have come a long way in my spiritual journey, I have never regained that complete trust in God that I had when I was a kid.

I want to get that back.

Does Al-Anon work for Everyone?

I have been spending a lot of time thinking about why Al-Anon does not "work" for me. I don't mean that its a bad program, or that it does not have merit, but I don't think it's a cure-all.

I have been thinking that Al-Anon is a very American program, and although I am an American, I tend not to think like one.

I rarely see anyone but Americans in my meetings. There are occasionally some British and one Russian woman. Obviously all groups have alcoholics in them, so I am wondering what other cultures do. I know that Al-Anon and AA have groups everywhere, but I don't believe either program is as prevalent in any other culture.

I also have been thinking a great deal about religion lately. While Al-Anon is supposed to be vanilla, it seems very Christian to me. It does not mesh culturally or philosophically with what I believe as a Muslim. I suppose I can somewhat relate to it from my Christian upbringing, but I have yet to see another Muslim in any Al-Anon meeting. (I do have one Muslim friend online who attends Al-Anon meetings however, so I plan to ask her for her opinion.)

I talked recently with a Mormon who had tried Al-Anon and she felt similarly.

I also talked to another friend who does not like Al-Anon at all because she is an atheist and it is "too Christian" for her. We talked about another friend who was Jewish who had similar sentiments. I am very interested to look into a Jewish perspective on this. I can't think of any Jewish alcoholics I know of. I am going to start asking around.

I think the similarities that I see between these other religions is that they tend to be VERY family and group oriented. Whereas traditional Christianity encourages forgiveness and more of an individual, personal relationship with God or Jesus, these other groups tend to emphasis personal responsibility to the group. They do not believe it is OK for an individual to behave poorly or blame the "victim". The victim is given assistance by the group.

A Muslim man who did not take care of his family because of alcoholism would be shamed. Shaming may not be ideal for the alcoholic, but I sure don't know many Muslim alcoholics. What is better for the family and the community as a whole is what is most important - not so much the individual (also an American thing in my opinion). If someone strays from that, they are taken aside and held to account. If they still can not behave, they would be shunned from the group. Thus, you do not often see this behavior.

I do not think we would ask someone in a concentration camp what their part in it was. I think we would say, ESCAPE! GET OUT! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!

Similarly, as someone who really did not grow up this way, I find the conditions of living in an alcoholic home to be completely inhumane. I think Al-Anon sometimes encourages us (perhaps inadvertently) to stay in bad situations and "look at our part" instead of getting out.

I remember when I was at a Betty Ford workshop for married couples listening to so many stories I did not agree with. The facilitators were telling us that we had basically equal responsibility in the relationship. (Ironically, both facilitators were addicts in recovery.)

One woman was with an alcoholic who treated her horribly and cheated on her. To this day, I still can not see her equal part in this. She was a very kind woman. Every time her husband spoke, I could not believe the justifications that were coming out of his mouth for his continually poor behavior. If I could go back, I would tell all of those women to get the hell out of the relationship - and then look at their part, if they had any. Their part perhaps was choosing an unsuitable mate.

Al-Anon often seems rather cult-like to me in that (especially the online community) is always trying to convince you how well it works. To me, if it worked that well, we would not hear the continual problems stemming from the alcoholic. One of the things that attracted me to Islam is that no one ever tried to recruit me. I just watched people who I thought were beautiful inside and wanted to learn more.

I also find it strange when people in "recovery" encourage you to only talk to other people in "recovery" and insinuate that everyone else is somehow emotionally unhealthy. I understand that people in the program have been through similar circumstances, but most of the people I meet in program seem to have significantly more problems than people out of program. It seems to me that if you want to find answers in your life, you should look to people who are living in healthy situations. I have seen several people who seem sage-like in Al-Anon, but the proportion of healthy people outside of Al-Anon and AA seems much greater to me.

The slogan it works if you work it reminds me of growing up as a fundamentalist Christian. Like the faith healers who tell people they would be healed if they only believed enough, I think that slogan places unjust emphasis on the believer.

I always find it sort of insulting when someone tries to convince me that their religion is the only right one and mine is wrong. (Or worse yet, that I am going to hell because I don't believe as they do - although that really just makes me laugh at this point.) I don't mind discussing or debating religion at all, but I like to do so with an open mind and hope that the other person also has an open mind.

Similarly, I find it offensive when people in Al-Anon think that their method is the only one that works. It may be the only program, but I think saying that it should work for all people is like saying Christianity is the only "right" religion. My perspective on religion is that God created many types of people and hence there is a religion (or not) that works for everyone.

I started as a Religion major in college and have always been very fascinated by this topic, so I'd love to hear more input. This is definitely something I want to look into further.

Like Alcohol, Religion Disinhibits Violence, Doesn’t Cause It

My wonderful athiest friend B posted this the other day and I thought it was a very interesting article. The author is also an athiest, and as a Mustlim-Christian I thought it was very fair.


On November 5, a Muslim US army psychiatrist, Nidal Malik Hasan, shot and killed thirteen of his fellow soldiers on the Fort Hood military base, injuring another thirty. In response to the Fort Hood shootings, some people are blaming Islam. Others are saying Islam had nothing to do with it, that the problem is our war of aggression or failure to care for psychologically wounded soldiers. I believe both are wrong.

The relationship of religion to violence is complicated. With the possible exception of Buddhism, the world’s most powerful religions give wildly contradictory messages about violence. The Christian Bible is full of exhortations to kindness, compassion, humility, mercy and justice. It is also full of exhortations to stoning, burning, slavery and slaughter. The same can be said of the Koran. The same can be said of the Torah. Believers who claim that Islam or Christianity or Judaism is a religion of peace are speaking a half truth—and a naive falsehood.

The human inclination toward peacemaking or violence exists on a continuum. Happy, healthy people who are inherently inclined toward peacemaking focus on sacred texts and spiritual practices that encourage peace. Those who are bitter, angry, fearful or prone to self-righteousness are attracted to texts that sanction violence and teachers who encourage the same. People along the middle of this continuum can be drawn in either direction by charismatic religious leaders who selectively focus on one or the other.

Each person’s individual violence risk is shaped by a host of factors: genetics, early learning, health, culture, social networks, life circumstances, and acute triggers. To blame any act of violence on religion is as silly as blaming an act of violence on guns or alcohol. But to deny that religion plays a role is as silly as denying that alcohol and guns play a role. It is to pretend that religions are inert, that our deepest values and beliefs about reality and morality have no impact on our behavior.

From a psychological standpoint, religions often put a god’s name on impulses that have subconscious, pre-verbal roots. They elicit peak experiences like mystic euphoria, dominance, submission, love and joy. They claim credit for the moral emotions (e.g. shame, guilt, disgust and empathy) that incline us toward fair play and altruism, and they direct these emotions toward specific persons or activities. In a similar way, religions elicit and channel protective reactions like anger and fear, the emotions most likely to underlie violence.

What is the role of religion in a tragedy like the Fort Hood shootings? The answer isn’t simple. From the swirl of conjecture and hype is emerging the image of a man who was lonely, who couldn’t quite seem to win at love, and who was profoundly troubled by the horror stories brought home by his soldier clients. Do therapists experience vicarious trauma? Absolutely. Does this trauma put their own mental health at risk? Absolutely. Many of them deal with this risk by seeking professional consultation, asking for support from loving family and friends, and limiting the number of post-traumatic clients that they see. It appears that Hasan made at least tentative attempts in several of these directions. But primarily he turned to forms of Islam that only deepened his sense of alienation and anger. In what must have been an anguishing conflict of loyalties, piety helped him to resolve the conflict in favor of co-religionists over compatriots. Ultimately, rage won out—righteous, sanctified rage—which came to matter more than any value he as a healer placed on his own life or the lives of his colleagues and clients.

I would argue that, like alcohol, religion disinhibits violence rather than causing it, and that it does so only when other factors have created conditions favorable toward aggression. I might also argue that under better circumstances religion disinhibits generosity and compassion increasing prosocial behavior. Religion often is centered around authority and text worship ( aka “bibliolatry”). Because of this, it has the power to lower the threshold on any behavior sanctioned by either a sacred text or a trusted religious leader and is at its most powerful when one is echoed by the other.

As many have pointed out, thousands of Muslim servicemen in the U.S. military shot no-one last week, nor will they unless they find themselves assigned to combat. Similarly, millions of people consume alcohol without insulting, hitting, kicking, stabbing or shooting anyone. Most of us are peaceful drinkers and peaceful believers. Yet, statistically we know that without alcohol assaults would be less common. So too, we all know that when suicide bombings happen, Islam is likely to be involved. And, I would add, when we hear that an obstetrics doctor has been shot or a gay teen beaten and left to die, or a U.S. president has announced a “crusade”, we know that Christianity was likely a part of the mix.

In general, as the gospel writer said, it is far easier to see the mote in our brother’s eye than the log in our own. American culture is bathed in Christianity, and even for most secular Americans, is easy to see Islam’s role in violence while missing the times when Christianity plays the same role. But the rest of the world doesn’t see us through our own rose colored glasses, and under a bare light bulb, American Christianity retains shadows of the inquisitor’s hood and implements of torture.

In recent years, the European and Australian press repeatedly have called attention to horrors being perpetrated in Africa thanks to American missionary dollars, a story that has been slow to get mainstream American press coverage. As Evangelical and Pentecostal Christianity spread across Nigeria and Congo, thousands of children are being beaten or burned or disfigured with acid after being condemned by Christian ministers as “witches.” After all, the American missionaries teach that the Bible is the literally perfect word of God, and the Bible says, “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live” (Exodus 22:18). When children are condemned by pastors and priests, exposed in the name of Jesus by the Holy Spirit himself, parents abandon them and their villages drive them out. The lucky ones find refuge in shelters. (For photos click here.)

Meanwhile in Uganda, American Evangelicals have helped to advance prison terms and death penalties for African gays. The Family, an American Christian organization with members in congress helped to convert Uganda’s president to their form of politicized Christianity. American activists attended a conference last March aimed at “wiping out” homosexuality. By this fall, a bill had been introduced that would allow the death penalty for gays with AIDS and institute jail time for parents who fail to turn in their homosexual teens. Horrors such as these don’t seem to have abated the flow of salvific dollars, Bibles, and earnest missionaries eager for converts any more than suicide bombings have dried up support for madrasas.

Was the Fort Hood murder spree caused by Islam? Are the African murder sprees caused by Christianity? A yes answer is far too simple. But the fact is that religion in America and around the world continues to disinhibit lethal violence. For us to vilify Muslims or Christians or any group of believers collectively is to engage in the familiar act of cowardice we call scapegoating. It means, ever and always, that we end up sacrificing innocents to appease our own fear, anger and thirst for vengeance. But for us to ignore the complicated role of religion in violence is a different kind of cowardice, one that has been indulged by peace-lovers among the faithful for far too long.

-Valerie TaricoShare

Always Feeling Different

I went to a Hot Buttered Rum concert Saturday night with a dear fried. We met for a drink first and had a great talk.

During the concert, we noted all the differences between people. Most of the people there were hippie-like. Many had dreadlocks. There was a lot of pot floating around the room. My friend and I didn't fit into that classification, so even when we tried to be friendly with the people around us, it wasn't that effective. But despite the fact that we looked like no one there and people for the most part blocked us out, I felt the music with my soul, enjoyed it from my very being, and had a wonderful evening.

Fat, thin. Rich, poor, or middle class. Black, white, Asian, hispanic. Republican or Democrat. Liberal or conservative. Christian, Muslim, Jew....

It occured to me during the concert that I feel that I don't quite fit in with anyone. I also thought about the way we classify ourselves into groups, and someone like me who is a mix of all different things never quite fits in anywhere.

Earlier the day I was at a financial meeting at the Muslim school. I was the only American there, the only convert and the only woman not covering her hair. I was in a group of mostly much older men, from Yemen, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and Palestine, I believe - and one woman from Egypt. I started out feeling a little uncomfortable and out of place. Several of the men had PhD's. They were all more "devout" than I. But as the meeting went on, and I started to speak, I began to feel more comfortable. I have been thinking of the last line of the Audre Lorde poem, A Litany for Survival - "So it is better to speak remembering, we were never meant to survive."

It occured to me that speaking is often the only way you can break barriers. People make assumptions about you based on your appearance - what you wear, your jewelry, your car, all of these things that are really unimportant are still what shows first. My devotion to the school and to Islam are absolute. I perhaps don't look that way on the outside, but in my heart I love that school and I am so happy to see it succeed the way it has.

On a side note, we had a Human Rights Art Contest in the area, where the students drew beautiful pictures about their ideas for human rights. 4 of the 5 awards went to students at the Muslim school. One of my favorites is posted above, and was drawn by a First Grader.

I have been arguing with several of my friends lately about religion and politics. I am on the very liberal side of the spectrum with nearly everything. Many of my friends prefer Sarah Palin, George W. and Dick Cheney. There seems to be no agreement on anything, and part of me is just tired of the argument. I have no hopes to change anyone, and I hope no one plans to change me. I am stubborn as hell.

Several of my friends feel like Islam is a "dangerous" religion. We talked about that after our group meeting. One of the elder men in the group, a very successful doctor, spoke about the threat of fundamentalist Muslims to mainstream and liberal Muslims like ourselves. People in general, are not able to differentiate between the two. He feels that the Fort Hood shooting is going to be more detrimental to Muslims in this country than 9-11. I'm in an interesting spot because I don't cover my hair and I am an American. People never expect me to be a Muslim, so I hear it all. I also consider myself a Christian too, and attend church fairly reguarly. I don't see that there is any conflict in that - at least not for me. I wish that we could come to a place where we all tried to understand each other instead of looking for the differences.


"I came to the conclusion long ago … that all religions were true and also that all had some error in them, and whilst I hold by my own, I should hold others as dear as Hinduism. So we can only pray, if we are Hindus, not that a Christian should become a Hindu … But our innermost prayer should be a Hindu should be a better Hindu, a Muslim a better Muslim, a Christian a better Christian."

- Mahatma Gandhi

Islamic Feminism

I met with the head of our local Muslim school yesterday, who I have known for over 10 years. I have been involved with the school for many years, but not as much as I would have liked after the birth of my children. I am going to be taking on a more active role now and I am very excited about that.

I had a very good talk with my friend, not only about the school and my son's school, which have a wonderful alliance, but also about life.

We talked a lot about my marriage and about my father-in-law. He was very surprised that my father-in-law had not been more supportive of both me and my marriage. He was also very surprised that my father-in-law did not work more closely with my husband. He said in Yemen, when a father is successful, it makes him proud to bring his son up in that same tradition.

I remember the same thing from my former father-in-law. Although he was not wealthy, he did own quite a bit of land. He was so proud of the fact that some day he would give all of that to his sons. (Women receive their inheritance when they marry as a way of insuring their financial control within the marriage. The money is theirs to keep. If the marriage goes south, they are not stuck.)

When I was leaving, my friend showed me the new library at the school, which he was very proud of. I noticed a women's studies section and in particular a book about Islamic Feminism, which I also have at home. I told him that we need to make sure that the girls graduate as Muslim feminists! Then I stopped myself, and we both agreed that Islam is a feminist religion that empowers women. I don't think very many people think of Islam in that way, but at it's root, that is what Islam set out to do. In many ways, that is what Islam has done for me.

Islam empowered me in a way that no other religion has. And, in going back to work, no other segment of my client base has been more supportive of me than my Muslim base.

I also was reflecting with my husband that it is so interesting that people stereotype Arab and Muslim men as holding back strong women, but my American father-in-law seems to have the problem with me, whereas my Arab and Muslim brothers seem to be very proud of my strength. My previous father-in-law is so proud of me. And yet all I feel from my current father-in-law is disgust.

Ramadan went to Hell

All my aspirations for Ramadan went out the window.

I can't say that I'm angry at God, I just feel like what is the point? right now. I have thought about it being Ramadan every day, but I have not practiced my religion.

I have felt this way about Christianity at times too...letting my religion go completely out the window for years at a time. So I suppose someday it will come back to me, or maybe something else will. I'm just at the point where I have decided to let things go and let things happen.

It seems strange to feel this way, but that's how I feel. Islam means submission, and I in now way feel like submitting to anything or anyone right now.

Taking a Break...

I took a little break from the blog this morning. I had an upsetting argument with a friend and I am re-evaluating a lot of things right now.

As much as my husband has hurt me on many levels, he is still probably my best friend and the one I go to for sorting out things like this. He has been in AA for a long time and he does have some good insight as to what a healthy relationship entails, even if he doesn’t always act that way himself.

I am very conflicted about where to go from here.

I wanted to start to blog to sort through a lot of issues in my life but I don’t really feel any closer to resolving anything.

I’m just very sad about where life has taken me. It seems like most of us still follow the same path we know from our families of origin regardless of how much we try to change.

And I’m frustrated even with myself on that end. I have read so much, listened to so many lectures, gone to church/mosque, therapy, retreats, meditated, prayed, written it all down…you name it…and I am still me.

And many of my “mistakes” in life have been the same mistakes that my parents and grandparents have made.

So I suppose I should expect the same from everyone else.

I am very hard on myself. But I am also hard on everyone else. My expectations just kill me.

Two Sides

I was in no mood to go to church this morning, but I decided to go anyway and I'm glad I did. My daughter still won't go to Sunday School so she sat by me the entire service, which went a little long today. Nonetheless, I left feeling much better than when I walked in. There are some great service projects going on there and I'm very excited to get my kids involved.

I feel like there are two very distinct sides to me. On one hand, language is everything and I am very careful with my speech, especially around my kids. This comes from my dad's side of the family.

On the other side, when I'm angry with my husband and his family there seems no better way to express myself than to cuss it out on the computer. I get this from my mom's side of the family. I have to say that I don't think any less of them for it. They swear, but it really doesn't mean anything. The cussing is just built into their speech. They are kind hearted people and they don't belittle people with language like my husband's family does.

So, I don't know how to reconcile the two, or even if I ever can. I do have a very spiritual side to me, and I hope that I can always remain true to that. But I also want to be real and not have to sensor myself.