From, The Dance of the Dissident Daughter: A Woman's Journey from Christian Tradition to the Sacred Feminine, by Sue Monk Kidd
“You sure are quiet,” Sandy said.
I smiled at him. “Just thinking.”
“Oh, about the slow, hidden way a woman’s life changes.”
“Well, let’s say there’s this woman, this Everywoman, and one night she has a dream about giving birth to herself. She doesn’t realize it, of course, but she’s about to be pregnant with a new feminine life. And sure enough, she starts to get wake-up calls – and odd slip of tongue, maybe, in which she hears herself putting the word Father before her own name. The next thing she knows, she’s uncovering the feminine wound – hers and the church’s and the whole world’s. She tries to run away from the whole thing, but before she gets too far, she finds herself on a beach with dancing women, celebrating an experience of female soul she can’t even comprehend but that down deep makes her long for the mysterious thing she’s lost.”
He looked at me. “And this woman decides to find it.”
“Yes, but first she decides she has to look honestly at her female life. When she does, she starts to see what a good daughter to patriarchy she’s been, how she’s created her life by blueprints that aren’t even her own. Then she looks at the church, her marriage, the whole culture, the way it really is, the way women have been devalues and excluded, how the feminine has been suppressed and left out, and she knows for the first time that the absence of the Divine Feminine has left a hole in her.”