Journal Entry 11.19.23

Penelope was the wife of Ulysses. When he went off to fight in the Trojan War he was believed to have died. His wife was overwhelmed with suitors. She was faithful to her husband and so held off the suitors by saying she would marry once she completed a burial shroud for her father-in-law. Who could disrupt such a pious and noble endeavor? Her suitors waited. What they didn’t know was that every night she would unweave the section of cloth she had woven that day.

I identify with Penelope, not that I am faithful to husbands who have abandoned me, but that I remain faithful to my belief in love. I do believe there is somewhere a man who will see me as a gift and will want me no matter how old we are or how challenging our circumstances. I will carry on and do my weaving, and at night I will unweave the ordinary cloth waiting for the extraordinary that I am certain will return.

When I was a young girl I believed I would find my soulmate. I expected him to be your classic hero, a Romeo, a friend, a partner. When I was sixteen, living in Borneo I was often faced with inherent racism imbedded in the culture and reinforced by outsiders: white was good, being American was ideal, that villagers were dirty, dark skin was ugly. I did everything I could to counter those stereotypes. But I was often asked in Borneo if I would marry a man from whatever village I was in. I found men I met there attractive, but was not able to become interested in someone I could only speak to across huge linguistic and social divides when I was barely a teenager. To avoid the question, I would often say, “Find me a man who is as tall as I am and I will marry him.” At that time nutrition and health issues meant that men remained small in stature in Borneo. One day when I was in my 20’s I met my match, the village produced a man who not only was my height, he was taller than me. I realized, like Penelope, exposed by her maid, I could no longer unweave the fabric at night.

But still I persist, weaving and unweaving, believing I will someday be fully loved by a friend who will not want to leave me.