While I understood why theft or murder was wrong, this aspect didn’t make sense to me. What did sex and my body have to do with God?
In the etiquette class, everything had a proper place and use—even me.
Succubus, siren, gold-digger, temptress: There are so many words for a woman with money in her hands.
Esther, you are a queen not because of your physical perfection, but because of the horror and rage you transformed it into.
While Ruth’s words— “where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay”—made for a heart-stilling pseudomarital vow, I was not selfless enough to promise the same.
There is a part of me, even after so many iterations of faith and years of living in an adult body, that is waiting for punishment, waiting to be banished from the Garden.