Untangling power and submission
It seems that I usually find the trail of breadcrumbs leading to my destination after I’ve already arrived. Oddly, something about that is comforting. Maybe because mostly, it seems we are bumbling through this life, and that feels terrifying to me. I like to think that purpose exists even when the journey seems random. Somehow the idea that there is an unconscious tapestry weaving its way through my life offers hope. Even if it is only my subconscious creating the links between events, or illuminating the breadcrumbs along the way.
My tapestry starts in a revival tent. My whole identity was spun around the idea that women, at their most powerful, were meant to be submissive. In fact, I was taught that in order for power to even be possible, submission was necessary. It was a tool I could wield to create the world I wanted. From the pulpit, I learned that the word “meek” meant “power under control,” like a bridled horse. A powerful and spirited horse, on its own, was dangerous but tamed and bridled it became useful. This spoke to me at a young age because my world seemed largely out of my control. I felt powerless in so many ways but envisioning my helplessness as submission helped me to regain some feeling of control. I made myself a servant to all, so I could be a master over my fear of harm. This conceptualization of power through submission, and therefore selflessness, manifested in…