in which moriarty speaks the truth

Should I keep on giving you weekly run-downs of my week?

On Tuesday, I went to visit two of my best friends for a three day visit and we cooked and knitted and drank tea and watched How to Steal a Million and I was only mildly shy and awkward.

On Wednesday, I was even more shy and awkward we had the jolliest time playing the telegraph game and nobody said

thank goodness.

 Thursday, we spent the entire day shopping and I surprisingly only spent $31.00. I have no idea how that happened.

Friday, I did something, but I’m not sure what.

Saturday, I spent the day visiting relatives and thinking about Lizzie and Darcy being together and then I came home way past my bedtime and watched that documentary about opera.

On Sunday, I was going to read The Brothers Karamazov, but then I accidentally started reading Howards End and haven’t been able to put it down except for the times when I’ve accidentally taken naps. So that includes today, too.

On Masculinity and Femininity, Or, The Most Atrocious Essay I've Ever Written

Right now I am very unsure what this essay is going to say. I only know that it’s something I have known for a long time but never in words, so I don’t know if I can communicate it. I don’t know if it is true or not. I don’t claim that it is. This is just what I feel about masculinity and femininity, perhaps Biblically, perhaps as God desires it, at least how I feel like it should be.

I think of it as being a very comfortable, beautiful thing. That men should be men and women women and perfectly happy that way. That it shouldn’t even be something that even has to be thought about, because everyone should just be happy with it, when it is as it should be. Because it’s so good. Everyone should be content, because where they are is best and trying to be different is not going to be better. Of course it isn’t that way in real life, and it’s not easy. But that’s what it should be. Comfortable and beautiful and no one even pays attention to it because it should be a non-issue.

I think of it as a matter of contentment and peace and completeness and confidence and love. When you are in Christ, when your heart is right, those things should come. You don’t have to strive to have equal rights or worry that you aren’t being respected or whatever it is that is vocalized by the promptings of the main insecurity that seems to typify feminists. In Christ, you are good enough, you are complete. You never have to worry about being Enough anything. Women can be perfectly content and confident in who they are, in being women, in being feminine, because they know they don’t have to be anything because Jesus took that burden from them. There is no need to prove that they are as good as or better than men because it isn’t even an issue. Because Jesus died for them, they know they are of so much value that it is idiotic to even question whether they are good enough or whether someone or some group is better than they are. It doesn’t matter. It’s not something you have to think about. And so there is peace.

I’m sorry if I’m incoherent. This has never been something I’ve struggled with. I have always been very content in being a woman. It has never occurred to me that I need to prove myself. Not, at least, as a woman against men. The idea seems silly to me. I don’t say it is to others, because I understand the insecurity and the pressures of the world. But I was sheltered from that, so it doesn’t affect me.

I do believe that men are better than women at some things. I believe that women are better than men at some things. But this doesn’t mean that the other group isn’t as good. It’s just one little area. Every person’s worth is equal and infinite. I think the fact that others are better at certain skills and abilities should be a source of peace, not of conflict and competition. Because someone else is better at something, like leadership or physical strength, is an ease off of me, because that is one less thing I have to do. I can focus on the things I really am good at and let the others do the things where I am weak.

I don’t have clear thoughts about what the feminists achieved, with equal rights for women. I think it is good that women have all the rights to voting and getting any job they want, but I think they need to forget now that they had to fight to get that. When I hear stories about how women had to fight, I don’t think how brave and laudable those women were, or what beasts the men were to prevent them. It’s more that those individuals had no respect and love for others. Both sides lacked it and both sides needed it. Love and respect is needed for all of life, and when people are in their proper place, it should come. It is, at any rate, the fruit of the Spirit of God working in people’s lives. So now women need to forget that there was a time when men did not respect their mental capabilities and respect the men now. Men should respect women, show them respect and deference because they are women, they are precious and lovely and it is the good and proper thing to do, to treat them better than other men. Everyone should just love everyone!

These are just rambling thoughts of mine. I can’t back them with scripture (at least now). I haven’t tried, really. It’s just what I feel at the moment on the issue. Boys aren’t better than girls and girls aren’t better than boys, but boys are better at being boys and girls are better at being girls, and when they aren’t trying to be something they aren’t or trying to prove something that is so true it doesn’t need to be proven, that is when peace is found and when things are as they ought to be.

I never thought I was that enthuiastic of a person.

I mean, I am of a very placid and calm demeanor.

I always have been.

I thought I always would be.

And suddenly, I begin watching Jane Austen movies and Doctor Who and then I have a tumblr, and no I am constantly freaking people out with my obsessive enthusiasm.

Mostly for, like, say, Mr. Knightley. And everyone else we talk about here on tumblr.

I am always amused and surprised when I accidentally display my obsessive tendencies in front of Lydia, and there she is, observing me in amusement.

I’m taken aback. You mean, you don’t think and feel and act like this? You mean, this isn’t normal?

(BUT. My best friend, who is a twin soul, told me that she watched the new Emma with her friends at college, and slightly scared them with her enthusiasm for Mr. Knightley. Maybe scarred. And she isn’t really a demonstrative person, either. And her roommate, who is also my friend and who is much more so, and professedly adores Mr. Knightley, was not on the same scale. Or maybe planet. I don’t know. I need to go to bed.)