Over the past couple of years, I would suddenly get passionate and clear-headed (admittedly often fueled by caffeine), and rush to the computer to capture the river raging through my mind. I grew a collection of essays that I would re-read and re-work over and over, daydreaming about the day I would feel brave enough to share them.

As soon as I released my voice and position this past autumn, I published those writings one-by-one. Until I was left to ask… What now?

It’s strange to exist in this time and place. On one hand, I am very passionate about women and the rights of mothers and their babies. I take a timeless stance with this passion, anchored in anthropology, evolution, animism, a deep respect for life and death, and cross-cultural pre-civilization perspectives.

On the other hand, I’m not much of a joiner. I’m more the girl in the corner watching everyone get fanatical about whatever is going on in our time, musing on how strange humans are, and contemplating how this particular trend might fit into history. And then quietly doing my own thing that goes against the grain, yet again.

But as a human being alive RIGHT NOW, I’ve also had to accept that, despite my macro view of the world, I too am a living participant in this joyful madness. I also seek to avoid the pitfalls of anthropologists and sociologists who observe cultures as though they are in a pretend laboratory, observing life while not participating in it - a behavior that has led to inaccurate conclusions and pseudo-realities that don’t exist when they aren’t observing. (*ahem* physiological birth and the stupid obstetrical dilemma *ahem*)

Watching our world spiral further and further out of orbit (metaphorically speaking, Mama Earth is always holding down the fort when it comes to physics), has led me into a bit of a social snare. I’d prefer to observe and keep my eyes on my own work - the work of supporting women as they rewild their lives and in untangling all this civilization nonsense (especially during the rite of passage of birth).

But one can only quietly sit on the sidelines for so long before finally losing patience and speaking up. (Age helps.)

And so I spoke up when I declared my perspective on all the gender nonsense going on in our world. I’ve made so many friends since doing this, and of course lost others. I still fear the rocky balance of real world friendships that might not weather this highly divisive issue. I have often worried that my income stream would dry up by being so bold (one of the primary concerns of women who do speak up - which tells you almost everything you need to know about how anti-woman this movement truly is).

It’s indeed a tragedy when one uses female language and stands up for women and girls…and then suddenly hemorrhages female friends (and incurs the wrath of so-called “feminist”, highly educated men who feel the need to mansplain my “regressive” stance on gender - no fucking thank you). And it’s truly bizarre to consider in the context of time and space.

Despite my beautiful new friendships, it feels lonely in my immediate community. I no longer feel entirely comfortable interacting with the academic friendships I’ve built over the years. I don’t trust professors or the institutions themselves. Groups I’ve built with others I have completely dissociated from, as I can’t abide the politics any longer (more friendships lost).

Existing in a conservative town that was more than willing to take an ax to the university’s Center for Women and Families to then construct the Center for Diversity and Inclusion in its place leaves me feeling strange. Being asked to be on panels about Women's Studies, followed immediately by a request for my pronouns makes me feel like I’m living on an alien planet.

I am not conservative and have no inclination toward this philosophy (another extreme position that favors big government in the other direction). Though my perspectives seem “moderate” because they are built through considering complexity and nuance, they are of an anarchist, non-hierarchical, anti-state perspective which most people would find quite radical.

I am not tame. I’m not trying to be nice or wishy-washy. I am simply most comfortable in the gray mess of life.

I also do not feel irritated by religious people any longer. In fact, I find that I am more at peace with them than I have been in two decades. I deeply admire their devotion and the beauty of their spiritual practices, even as I critique the social implications of religious power structures (as I critique all power structures, and all of society is rooted in religious origins).

Letting go of liberal group-think has allowed me to flow deeper into loving the humanity in all people. It has allowed me to more deeply appreciate them, get curious about their worldviews, and to honor their life experiences - to not need them to see the world the way I do.

It has allowed me to simultaneously become more humble while also becoming more bold and self-assured. To be able to sit with a religious friend and bond over shared values and perspectives, and then to also sit with a friend who holds my animist worldviews. I love and admire both, and don’t feel ruffled by difference as I once might have. I can flow between them with ease and plenty of lighthearted banter all around.

Being raised Mormon and living in the state of Utah, all of this plays out in a highly unique way that people in other states and countries haven’t observed and don’t understand. 

Those who leave the LDS church tend to immediately enter a state of believing almost anything that is the opposite of what the church teaches, clearly driven by rebellion and a state of exploring the world beyond their childhood rules. This is further fueled by the pressures of being surrounded by a monoculture that one is in opposition against. I understand this experience and also operated from this state of reaction for well over a decade.

And then I outgrew it and became a free adult. (I encourage all ex-Mormon readers to consider a deeper state of contemplation around how reactive their beliefs are versus how self-chosen they could be - critical thinking and reflection is an amazing skill to develop post-Mormonism or post any all-consuming religious/political upbringing.)

All of this conversation often leaves me deeply exhausted and sometimes pessimistic (I’m normally an optimist). I grow tired of frantically talking about the gender madness that first possessed the United States, and that is now spreading worldwide. 

(Yes, I am slowly calming the franticness while keeping the passion.)

I’m still finding my energetic balance and exploring my voice. I do NOT have all the answers. I would much rather write about the science of physiological birth (and the psychedelic spiritual portal that it creates). I would much rather talk about how human society developed and how women are biologically the center of humanity. I want to write about how humans are the destined caretakers of this magical, animated planet.

I want to create pretty photos, share life reflections, and design educational Instagram posts. 

And I plan to.

But as my core inquiry in life is the wellbeing of women and their children, the gender conversation continues to run over more advanced topics. And so I keep being pulled back to it.

Thank you for your patience as I discover my boldness and find my voice - for sticking with me as I explore my own lens on women and humanity through writing. 

I don’t know where this collection is heading quite yet. I’ve contemplated going back to school to get a PhD many, many (many) times over the past 10+ years. But what I want to study and write about is all but banned from the schools that might otherwise offer a program I would be interested in (no liberal or conservative university would be willing to support my research topic at this point in time - that much is clear). 

So many of us women are in this position: ready to take on scholarship and depth of inquiry, but being left out in the cold academically (which seems to be a historical trend). We become the untouchables by virtue of dissent. 

Perhaps instead I will apply an academic rigor to my writing here in an intentional and focused way, creating my own kind of research and inquiry (for my non-academically inclined readers: don’t worry, I’ll always write in plain language because it’s an ethic of mine). I’ve never really been one to follow rules or enjoy membership in institutions. It would suit my life path quite well. And yet I also crave the feedback of mentors, access to academic resources, and the community of other thinkers.

Maybe an autonomous community of women who think and write, offering this sort of support to each other would fill that gap for now…? 

Only time and conversation will tell.

In the meantime, you’ll find me diving deep into untangling women’s cultural positions around the world, sitting with a new reframing/realization that the first colonization was the colonization of women’s bodies (and looking at civilization through this sex-not-gender-colonial lens)... 

But mostly you’ll find me putting my boots on the ground by sitting with women in my community while they give birth to their beautiful babies instinctively, deep in mammalian physiology, with a loving skilled sister by their side (explore this autonomous midwifery offering here).

Until next time… Keep centering those mamas and babies in your communities! Thank you for bravely being here with me. ♡