Dragonfly.

My sister Lily and I look a lot alike. Sometimes when I look at photographs, I can't tell whether I'm looking at myself or at her.

We don't fit in particularly well within our family: for me because I like boundaries and don't agree politically or religiously. And for Lily because after one semester of college, she dropped out, joined a commune, legally changed her name to Dragonfly, and now has blond dreadlocks down to her knees, as well as two illegitimate children -- this is a no-no in a patriarchal arrangement, of which I do not seem to excel. I didn't get along with Dragonfly for a long time because 1) I needed someone to blame for dysfunctional dynamics and 2) she was an addict so provided a handy scapegoat. 

But now we are friends.

It feels strange to think that the family member I now have the most in common with is named Dragonfly. My friends always roll their eyes when I call her that. But I met this trans man at an Anonymous meeting who convinced me -- without saying much at all -- that a person's name is the most important thing about them, and that calling someone by their preferred name is one of the easiest and most meaningful gifts you can give. Also, our brother helped me in this regard.

Anyway, Lily/Dragonfly and I have been on a journey to decide things for ourselves. I started seeing this woman called a "spiritual director," which is a guide in any faith tradition that helps you explore the ins and outs of your spirituality. The spiritual director gave me an assignment designed to make me examine my beliefs about God. It was very interesting. The only thing I could come up with was that God resembled the 81% of evangelicals who voted for Trump, so God was a middle-aged white person with lots of banners, flags, or postcards stuck to their fridge and an almighty belief in the flag, the dollar, and the gun. 

So mostly that exercise was a bust. 

However, Lily and I decided to take the exercise and turn it into an examination of dating, relationships, and sexuality instead. We were supposed to divide a piece of paper into 4 quadrants and in them put:

1) ideas about this topic I learned in my youth
2) ideas about this topic I currently hold
3) what my ideal version of this would look like
4) ideas about this topic from my past that are currently holding me back

Our ideas did not fit onto a sheet of paper. I wrote 4 pages and created a large poster board. Lily typed 7. It turns out we learned a lot of shit about dating, relationships, and sex. Spelled out in black and white, some of them look absolutely absurd now:

* it's your fault if a man attacks you
* you are powerful but in a dangerous way; stay covered up
* men can only think about sex; it's your job to always be in control
* a woman's role is to be a wife/mother - but only in a heteronormative, married relationship with a white, conservative male

You get the gist.

Neither of us has been very good at this. Lily tossed out the rules at 18, but it took me 4 pastor-boyfriends who never proposed to figure out that this paradigm is useless for me. It turns out I don't particularly even like children.

Me: You are not going to BELIEVE this. I went to visit my sister's new baby--

Cara: So, your niece...

Me: Okay, whatever, my niece -- in the hospital, on the day she was born because I knew Lucy would never let me forget it if I didn't. I was actually pleasantly surprised. I even skipped yoga to spend more time with the baby...

Cara: Awww!

Me: But it turns out that this is not where the expectations end!!!!!! Now Lucy wants me to come visit the baby!!!! Like, after I get off school and am heading home in the evenings!

Cara: Well, yeah. That's what people do.

Me: WHAT!? I already went to see it when it was born!!! Why am I supposed to visit it now?

Cara: **** can't stop guffawing ****

So, okay, I do not have a maternal streak. I like my nieces and nephews who are of the talking and walking age. I do not understand babies.

But the belief that really f****d us over was the one called, "Don't ever betray interest in a guy."

The belief went like this: 

Women should be modest. This means quiet, demure, unassuming, respectful, and chaste. Under no circumstances should a woman ever show interest in a man. That's what "forward" women do. (I kid you not, I got lectured alllllll the time for playing basketball with a guy who lived on our street. It would "cause the neighbors to stumble.") Our parents were of the Mike Pence variety. Our dad would not so much as poke a woman on the back, so extreme was his belief in marital chastity.

If that's the kind of thing you like or believe, have at it, I say. But it becomes problematic when you teach your daughters that expressing any interest in a person other than one's husband is wrong.

This has screwed Dragonfly and me over countless times. I remember a long time ago dating Nick, who lived 900 miles away, in NYC. I was frustrated and upset because he had gone days without calling me.

Nick: If you want to talk to me, just pick up the phone and call me!

Me: I can't. I don't want to be aggressive and forward. I don't want it to seem like I'm chasing you.

Nick: You're not "chasing" me! We're in a relationship, I'm already caught! If you want to talk to me, just call me up. 

Easier said than done. I don't know why it is so freaking hard to undo that one rule about expressing interest or desire, but it's basically been the undoing of several relationships Lily and I have had.

I've been thinking a lot about beliefs and the ideas that hold us back and no longer serve us. In a perfect world, we would look at a belief like the "Modest Woman Rule" and say, "Ah well, that's stupid, time to chuck it," and then we'd do just that.

But in reality, it's much, much harder to overcome decades of indoctrination that are all layered with misogyny and patriarchal views of what women should and shouldn't be like. It's one thing to say, "I don't believe women have to be modest and silent anymore! I'm going to express myself and my desires!" 

It's quite another to actually open your lips and learn to use your voice.

I hope one-day Dragonfly and I learn how to do this well.

 "I think it's not all down to us," she said thoughtfully last week. "I think there are also guys out there who are understanding and kind, who don't make it all about them and their masculinity."

That is easy for her to say because she found one. 

"So let me get this straight," said my friend Michelle over lunch. "DRAGONFLY has the ideal, stable relationship of the family?"

"Oh. Well... yeah, I guess," I said.

"Wow," Michelle leaned back. "Irony."

It is certainly not a mark in favor of the ways we were taught.