To Be a Woman; a Double Whammy. A God Said, I Said.

I was at Marshalls shopping for my agents and I spotted some anklets that I had to have. This is a common pitfall of loving to give gifts. I put together gift bags for my top ten agents each month which is for sure a labor of love, but I also buy a lot more for myself than I otherwise would. 

Took the anklets home. Set them on my bathroom counter for a few days. You know. To acclimate them to their new surroundings. 

Days later I decide to put them on in the wee hours of the night. It was one of those nights where you take a bath and suddenly you’re like I need to shave everything I can reach. That big toe. It needs shaved. Now I’m like getting out the electric razor and shaving um, other things. I have the tweezers. I’m like no hair left behind. 

God clears his throat. 

I look up. “Sir?” 

“Whatcha doing, kid?”

“Grooming?”

“You do not need to remove every hair from your body. In fact it’s frowned upon.” I can hear the smile in His voice. Direction, not correction. 

Ok, but I’m still in that grooming mood so I start to take my new anklets out of the package. I feel His gaze. 

“Why do you feel like you need to get every hair?” 

I don’t answer. I’m thinking. I clip the first anklet to my ankle. Straighten up. “Men have this huge drive to have sex.”

“Yeah?” Not a new topic for us. He’s like, go on. 

“We don’t have that, but we feel driven to be desirable to men and it sucks.” 

You may be like, she said sucks to Him? But like yeah, I completely did and it’s absolutely not the worst thing I’ve ever said to Him. My Dad in Heaven hears my real feelings and I’ve never felt like He didn’t want them or like I had to sugar coat my words. 

I respect the Man beyond words, which I think is part of why He never gets bothered by my direct responses. He is God. I know that and I know Him:

I know his nods, His “I’ll allow it”. I can’t see the nod, but I somehow know He means, “Tell me how you really feel.” 

I know His grace, “Do I need forgiveness?” “I think you do.” “Can I have it?” “Of course.” That smile back in His voice. 

I know His heart for me. The love I can feel at any moment. So intense, so sweet. So intimate. The Man made me. I have the greatest respect for Him. 

A respect born of admiration and part of why I adore Him is that I’m in the middle of shaving my every hair, putting on anklets from the outlet store, and I can just be like, “It sucks to be a girl.” And He’s just all like, “Tell me.” 

“Tell me.” 

And I know He means, “Tell me so I can work on this for you. Work on your heart, work on the situation. Work on the world. Work on what it’s like to be a girl.”

Because He cares, and wouldn’t you know it, not just about men. 

In fact, I think He’s really interested in helping His women out of our current predicament. The one where we do 90% of the work and get 10% of the enjoyment? It’s not what we meant when we said we wanted to do work outside the home, was it? We did not foresee that we’d be expected, 75 years later, to somehow bring in an income AND keep the home fires burning. But I digress. There’s only so much complaining you can do in one piece of writing and I’m nearing the threshold. And I still have to tell you what sucks. 

I’m onto the next anklet now. And I already had three on the other leg. Is He eyeing my ankles thinking, “How many anklets can one girl wear at a time? Is she going for some sort of record?” 

“Men.” 

“Yeah?” 

This is a topic we’ve spoken on too many times to count. The men in my life. That song, we talk about your guys of every shape and size, the ones that you despise and the ones you idolize. 

I feel like He could sing that song to me in its entirety and it would 100% be true, even the line where Toby Keith says, “LJ, I like talking about you, you, you, you usually, but occasionally, I want to talk about Me.” Yes, Dad. 

Yeah, I call Him Dad too. He said Abba in the Bible, and that’s the equivalent of “Daddy” and I’ve always loved that He wants to be that to us. Not distant. Not the Pope. Not the God who we have to climb to, Daddy. Dad. 

Since my dad died, it feels more appropriate than ever. I am not Fatherless. I have an amazing Dad.

“Yeah, you know. Just like I have to shave. I need anklets.”

“I wasn’t aware of that phenomenon.” 

“Well, it exists. I have to be sexy. And then not even valued for my brain. These men that are like a 4 on their best day judge me for not being a 10.” 

“You are a 10, girl.” 

“Says my dad, who literally made me.”

“Yes, and I’m proud of that actually. Some of my best work.” He’s warming me up. I’m smiling. 

“Yeah, but it’s hard to face the double whammy of being a woman.” 

“What is this double whammy of which you speak? Is this some sort of hamburger? I know you ate two today alone.” He is 100% not wrong. It was two double cheeseburgers actually so I think He’s honestly being quite kind by not saying four. 

I’m dying. But I say, “No this one is not nearly so delicious.” They were delicious by the way. Keto for life. 

This earns me another, “Tell me.” 

“Just like you know you’re so smart, so valuable, you have such good ideas, you could do things so much better than the men who are in charge. And not only are you not being judged for your brains or your abilities, but you are being judged by how you fill out your bra. They’re just ogling you, only valuing you for your looks. It’s a double whammy.”

“When have you felt like this?” 

My mind floods with memories. Corporate America, my suits, men, offices, my brain looking for the answer. 

He goes on, “I don’t remember this scenario you’re referring to.”

“Oh, it’s more of a vibe. It’s more like how it is. I don’t have a specific moment but it’s just all the times that I’d have ever been the perfect person to do the thing, but I have a vagina, so I’m only good to be seen and not good to lead.”

“You’re one of the best leaders I know.”

“I lead women. I choose to lead women. Because, A. They are so much smarter than men (I can somehow feel His eyes dance, He’s amused.), B. they are so under led and C. They will follow me. Men are a much harder sell. They don’t follow women. You don’t see many of them being led even by very amazing women. They aren’t reading our books, they aren’t watching our movies. We aren’t the real people to them.” 

“You’re the real people to me. I’m on this. I’m spending more time than ever with my women. Figuring out their problems and their needs. They love me so much more readily too. Your girls, kid. Your agents?”

“Yeah?” 

“Tell them to bring this to me when they see it. They talk to me a lot. They’re really special to me. You taught them how to talk to me like I’m a person.” 

“So now you’ve got like a huge group of women calling you Dad and telling you their life sucks because they have to shave their legs?” 

“Pretty much.”