Review, Summary, and Conclusion

by Liz O'Neill

Background
This is the final chapter of my autobiography.

There were many reasons I requested a dispensation from my vows. It began to feel like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. I was afraid I was going to grow old before my time. I was 46 years old and still the 2nd youngest in the community. There was one incident that opened my eyes. I had one of the convent cars to do my work to go back and forth to work to go wherever I needed to go and then come home at night.

To return home at night might be the operative phrase necessary here. After work, I would most often drive the car to Dodie’s to spend the evening with her. Sister Nosey whom I have alluded to earlier, may have made trouble for me. The authority figures told me they were selling the car I was driving There would be no car available to me. I was in shock for several reasons. One, that was how I got to work and how I did my work traveling to different homes.

The other was that was how I got to Dodie’s. What would I do if I couldn't get to her house and spend time with her and be nurtured by her? I was sitting in my office at work crying. My director who was the most loving caring person asked me why I was crying.

I didn't tell her about the Dodie part, but I did tell her I was no longer going to have the support from my community to have a car to go to work and do my job. I always knew they did not support my area of work because I wasn't a teacher. I used to be a teacher but it turned sour and I became a crisis worker for victims of domestic violence and sexual assault.

My loving caring director looked at me and said, “Lizzy, you are a 45-year-old grown woman and you are sitting here crying about a car. Something’s wrong with this picture.” She was correct and from then on I investigated the procedure for the dispensation of my vows. It was quite simple. I just had to write why I wanted to be dispensed of my vows and present the paperwork to the Bishop of our state who automatically granted it.

Previous to this action the universe was preparing me for this radical change. I was afforded the opportunity to participate in two instrumental events, the Creation Spirituality retreat and the workshop for Sisters who have been sexually abused. In the workshop, I learned some of the reasons I may have entered. One event complemented the other. The retreat added to the information I’d received in a previous workshop about adults who were sexually abused as children.

At that workshop, the speaker said, “Children may form an opinion of themselves and live accordingly. If a child believes they are bad they may act out that belief through behaviors that are promiscuous, or even criminal. They may believe nothing can ever change their sense of badness and shame.

However, others may choose a way of life to change God’s opinion of them. This may result in dedicating their lives to doing good works or becoming caregivers. The extreme act would be to enter the ministry, monastery, or convent.

The Sisters’ workshop helped me deal with my shame and sense of aloneness. To meet about 60 other Sisters who had been molested as children was comforting. We were divided into groups according to age. There was approximately the same number in each group. One group was those in their 30’s, another in their 30’s and 40’s.

The most striking group was those in their 60’s and 70’s. Some of these Sisters told of finally remembering being abused. One related how when she told her therapist about 12 years previously, he had said he doubted anything had happened. She ceased pursuing her gut feelings and her memories.

The years that followed were filled with suicide attempts and depression. Finally, someone heard her, affirmed her, and she began to work through her issues. She, like the rest of us, shared how she felt so much more connected.

*******

My Review, Summary, and Conclusion

My review, summary and conclusion of my life thus far, is simple. You observe there have been many incidents in my life where I wanted to be with someone who would be my particular friend. I would be the one they concentrated on, the one they wanted to spend their time with. Some may say this is a pipe dream but I have seen the beautiful dedication to each other in some of the couples I know.

The concept of the state of particular for me means I'm the only one who is the best friend or partner. There have been trios throughout my life. My very best childhood friend, when we reached junior high age distanced herself from me to be with people she deemed more fun and more risk-taking. They were drinking, smoking, and making out. I didn't understand at the time I wasn't attracted to boys. Because I didn't know I was gay I never met any boys to whom I was attracted and worked to be a boyfriend. I continuously found myself on the outer edge of socializing.

In high school there were trios. I had friends who were with people they’d been friends with since kindergarten. I was never special to anyone. When I was dating as a lesbian, I was hopeful either handfasted in a glorious ceremony of commitment or engaged. However, there was always one more person who seemed to have the attention of my girlfriend. One had her niece whom she focused upon and valued as more important than I would be or could ever be.

I became handfasted to a woman, a symbol of commitment. She spent much time talking on the phone to a religious Sister who had watched over her most of her childhood when she was in boarding school where he mother had appeared to dump her. She was ever indebted to that sister and wanted to reconnect with her. My girlfriend had many dogs that took much of her attention. I seemed to be an afterthought.
My final girlfriend to whom I was engaged had several issues more important than me. Our engagement ended because she wanted to get married in white wedding gowns. I couldn't go along with that. I'd already had a wonderful social experience of handfasting. We had all our friends there. It was a glorious day.

I had to tell her I had already worn a white wedding gown when I got my habit at the beginning of my training to be a Sister. It was not the best memory. I got my head shaved after that. How traumatic, I felt so violated. It was a symbol of something and also for some, it was a relief from the heat. We had to wear several layers for our headpiece.

A familiarity of becoming nameless and embracing the out-of-body experience, where the body was negated, once again nudges at my speculation that I was close to the victims of the Holocaust. It's a shame I carry with me. However, I know it was a past life, not this life. I am a kind accepting person in this lifetime. I have also spent this lifetime fighting authority figures because I believe in a past life I did what was expected. That is not happening in this lifetime.

There was going to be no repeat performance of any of that. I explained to my fiance I was glad she hadn't got the tattoo on her finger that she wanted to. Though we remained friends, I never did get to visit her near her end of life. She was dying of some kind of cancer and was too tired to receive any visitors when I did have an opportunity to go see her.

After searching for that particular friend I have realized through all of this, I am my own best particular friend. I can joyfully sing the song Miley Cyrus has written and sings, “I can buy myself flowers, I can hold my hand. I can love myself better than anyone can.”

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This is the final chapter of my autobiography with a can it be called we could call it satisfactory conclusion.

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My final chapter

A chapter in the book A Particular Friendship

Review, Summary, and Conclusion

by Liz O'Neill

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