Mythology: My Ultimate Obsession

I can pinpoint exactly where my obsession with mythology developed.

It was six grade. Our English teacher assigned each of us a Greek god or goddess to portray and tell their story before the class.

I was graciously appointed Aphrodite and let me tell you... I played the role UP.

Draped in rich maroon curtains stolen from my mother's dusty closet, I wove the tale of Aphrodite's illicit affair with Ares, God of War.

I'd like to think the class was riveted.

In reality, I was just the odd girl who never wore anything but hoodies and jeans.

My parents' divorce had exploded that year, and my school life was imploding right alongside it.

There were few reprieves from the drunken slurs, fist fights, and constant fear. I'd begun having nightmares and withdrawing from my friends. Late nights spent searching town for my intoxicated mother while my enraged father refused to let us go home were taking their toll.

Ironic I was to portray the Goddess of love when I had so little of it in my own life, suffering so deeply for someone so young.

But when I wrapped those musty curtains around my shoulders and rattled off every fact I'd learned about my favorite goddess, something bloomed.

I needed to know more about these mythical beings.

My Christian God—the one I'd been raised to believe in—had abandoned me in my adolescent mind. He'd turned his back as my preacher boomed from the pool pit that my parent's would burn in hell for divorcing and that nothing they ever did could save them from eternal flames.

My young, feminine spirit was snuffed out as I learned I'd never be allowed to teach if men were present. I couldn't lead the congregation in the hymns I loved or stand before it and speak.

I would never stand as an equal to a man.

But these goddesses? These women donned armor and split open the skulls of gods during birth. They didn't bow to men. They stood tall as equals and were champions of women. And so I dove into the literature.

Greek.

Celtic.

Roman.

Egyptian.

The list grew longer as I learned not only the myths themselves, but the beliefs behind them. I became fascinated by the social structures built with a pantheon of immortals as their spine.

I devoured every fiction novel tied to religion I could get my hands on. Then I moved to nonfiction and began mapping the rise and fall of religions across history.

I couldn't have known then that as my home life became a battlefield and abuse became harmonious with breathing, that this knowledge would do more than help me.

It would heal me.

Welcome to my blog,

F.N. Reinhardt