The Unreliable Narrator: Adventures in Book Writing
by P. Braithwaite
Why are you writing about men? Why not women?
For a long time I didn’t have an answer to this question. Then, when I got tired of not having an answer, I invented one: I cited feminism and patriarchal society. I cited a passing interest in men. I’ve cited the “fact” that God is most often referred to as a man. I cited the Bible.
I even got close to the truth when I said, “even with all my fancy book learning, I picture God as a man.”
The REAL truth though, has emerged in the wake of my last relationship:
I mistake MEN for GOD.
YIKES! Okay friends, don’t judge me, that’s hard to admit. I’m educated! My mother is a feminist (hi mom), but before you unfollow me, let me ‘splain: I’ve confused the love of God with the love of a man. And I suspect I’ve been moving thru life looking for men to convince me I’m enough.
[A fool’s endeavor indeed…]
So why a book about men? Because I think that, initially, the book was my way of correcting my perception, without even fully realizing that was my problem.
No wonder I’m having so much trouble finishing it.
The truth is that I move thru the world like a broken person. Up until recently, I hadn’t been single for more than 2 months…in five years. That would be awesome if I actually had good relationships, but trust me…they haven’t been a picnic.
Somehow, I’ve become a person who has learned to see herself thru the eyes of her beloved. I’ve adopted the mantra of: he loves me; therefore I am loveable. The thing is, these dudes were flawed. Way more flawed than me, and with every failed relationship I’ve been able to validate horrible things about myself. So lately, I’m flying solo for a while and assessing the whole thing.I’m searching for God in myself and in the intangibles. I’m meditating and learning from teachers, both spiritual and secular.
I can feel the Universe nudging me to resume interviewing men and writing about it, but somehow it feels different…
I’m not sure how the book will change as a result of this realization (a realization that is embarassing to admit). Maybe it won’t change a word, but the energy has shifted, and for that, I’m grateful.