Hear Me Roar!

I love books and movies. Stories, really. Some of the most beloved have kick-ass heroines. Eowyn (in the books more than the movies), Zoey Washburne, Mulan, Amy Pond, Katara and Toph, Professor McGonnagal, Agent Olivia Dunam & Dr. Temperance Brennan to name a few. But many more of my favorites show their strength in other ways besides being able to hold their own in a physical fight. Pepper Potts, Lucy Pevensie, Elizabeth Bennet, Ivy Walker, Belle (Beauty & the Beast), Hermione Granger & Luna Lovegood, and Gwen Stacy (In The Amazing Spider-Man)…all of them have strengths that deserve admiration as much as the kick-butt prowess of the first list (do not mistake me: I know that the Warrior types have other qualities which is why I love them so much).

What drives me crazy in a heroine is when she is completely useless (except for the disney princesses because I grew up with them and therefore Aurora is forgiven for being an idiot and touching that spindle…besides, how else would I have learned to go sing in the woods to find my man?)

For example: Kirsten Dunst’s Mary Jane Watson. My gosh, woman. For the love, would you stop screaming like an idiot for two seconds!? Oh, wait! I know! Why don’t you walk down that dark creepy alley?! That’s a great idea!

I’m not opposed to a heroine being rescued from danger. Danger is a real thing and sometimes a character does not have a way of getting out of the situation unless a hunky man rescues her. I’m okay with that. VERY okay. Just as long as she’s doing her best to get out of the situation and not just freaking out like an idiot.

Kate Austen in the pilot of Lost counting to 5 when the “Monster” was after her was acceptable. Why? Because anyone would panic in that terrifying situation, but for the most part Kate makes herself pretty dang useful.

The entire character of Willie in The Temple of Doom. Not acceptable. If you’ve seen that movie you know exactly what I mean.

The other extreme does annoy me at times, but not as often. When there’s the token sex object who can kick butt to make it seem like she’s not being objectified but really its just making it worse.

As for me, I always thought I fell on the more passive-probably needs to be rescued more often-side of things. Like Belle. I’m clever and I care about what’s inside, but let’s be real–if I’m surrounded by wolves my puny little arms are not going to swing that stick well enough to fight them off. Ima need some help. i’ll do my best to fight them but if the beast wants to come rescue me then I’ll let him and admire him for doing so.

I believe there is plenty of room for being a strong, capable woman and inviting chivalry.

Well, now that I’ve been on my own for quite a while I’ve really had to learn to fend for myself. I’ve found that I am a pretty capable person. I can fix things and take care of things that, in the house I grew up in, tended to be my dad’s job.

My roommates and I joke that between the three of us we make up a man, even though we are all very feminine and girly for the most part. Logicat loves football, has the strength of a man and tends to be our resident bug killer. I really enjoy playing video-games, take the trash to the dump and do the tinkering, house repairs, and technical everything. Bushbaby likes to pick fights, wrestle, “huh-huh” laugh at poop jokes, and does the yard-work. You do what you got to do.

I always assumed I’d have the luxury of not having to take care of the finances (Because I was going to be married at 23 or 24, of course). I suck at numbers but my God-given hubby would be great with them. But I’m having to learn how to handle my money and pay my bills on time. I never thought I’d have to know what to do with a car that constantly has problems, but I’m learning how to be prepared and how to take care of it.

It is great to know that I am capable of much. I’m not afraid to be on my own. I’m realizing that I am competent and I can be confident in my abilities.

I am afraid that if God does bring a man into my life it will be hard to make him feel needed. Not because I won’t want him to do anything, but because I’ve learned to be independent because I’ve had to. Because out of habit I won’t think to ask him to do anything for me. I know that men need to feel needed. I hope I can convey that through my actions, and not just by saying “I do need you.”

Because I will and I do in so many ways. I hate saying that because I know that I only really need God, so admitting that I will need him feels wrong. But it’s a different kind of needing. Not an “I’ll die without this” or “my life has no meaning without this” need, but a needing to be reassured that someone’s in my corner, that someone would speak up for me, that someone cares about who I really am. An “in this moment I just need to be held in the physical arms of someone who loves me and things will instantly be better” kind of way.

I’m more worried about showing him that I need him while we’re dating than I am about once we’re married. He’ll know how much I need him then…though I hope he knows it’s for more than just his body. 🙂 I’ll be able to show him at last the full extent of my need for him!

But while we date I know that I’m going to have a lot of learning to do on that subject. That is, if My Man actually exists. If not, then I will go on as I am. Learning that I AM CAPABLE!

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Growing and Masturbating

Getting in the word!

It’s amazing what spending time with God does to improve the day! I’ve known this for years and yet every time I actually make a habit of it I shake my head at silly old “unspiritual” me. “Why do you spiritually starve yourself, you idiot? See how much happier you are when your soul is being fed what it needs?”

It helps with the romantic man-longing, too, because drinking my fill of God has begun to satisfy emotionally. I’m still horny, though. 

I still masturbate. But it’s weird. When I’m far from God and really caught up in lust it’s different. I can’t satiate the desire and seek out ways to feed it. 

But recently, because I feel like I’ve been growing closer to God, if I’ve masturbated it’s different. My mind jumps ahead to what I hope to experience one day. Is that lust if it’s for my future husband?

Ugh. I hate confessing sometimes. Especially talking about this. But really, this is what is going through my head and I said I’d be honest. I don’t feel as guilty about it but is that just because I’ve made excuses for why it isn’t wrong? I’d love to hear other’s opinions about this. I know it is debated either way.

I’d rather not have any sex drive at all while I’m single and this not be an issue, but considering that’s not going to happen, I have to think about it.

God, I know I don’t bring this issue to You enough. Please, may the Holy Spirit speak clearly to me about it. And if this is something you want me to be rid of then help me fight it. If it isn’t then help me see it with Your eyes.