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Many of us probably share a common sentiment of relief that 2020 is over and 2021 is finally here. From COVID to the election and beyond, 2020 provided an abundance of food for thought on the role of the feminine genius in society. Even as women bore a significant share of the burdens of 2020, they also rose to the occasion with their examples of leadership and virtue. Women are uniquely situated to model the virtue of prudence and sensitively discerning the prudent course of conduct - and to encourage others to do the same.

Defining Prudence

Prudence is the first cardinal virtue. It is defined by the Catechism of the Catholic Church (“CCC”) as “the virtue that disposes practical reason to discern our true good in every circumstance and to choose the right means of achieving it” and “the charioteer of the virtues [which] guides the judgment of conscience” (CCC 1806).

St. Thomas Aquinas describes prudence as “right reason in action” (Summa Theologiae II-II, 47, 2). Prudence helps individuals examine a certain situation in which they must make a choice, consider the available choices, and then use practical reason to choose the right course of action: the good.

Another apt definition of prudence comes from St. Augustine, who insists that “[p]rudence is love choosing wisely between the things that help and those that hinder” (De Moribus Ecclesiae, Ch. XV). Prudence is “not to be confused with timidity or fear, nor with duplicity or dissimulation” (CCC 1806). The ability to exercise prudence is intimately connected with sensitivity, a characteristic of femininity identified by St. John Paul II (Mulieris Dignitatem 16). Women have a keen ability to sense their own needs and the needs of the family and adeptly choose the prudent path of action.

The ability to exercise prudence is intimately connected with sensitivity, a characteristic of femininity identified by St. John Paul II (Mulieris Dignitatem 16).

Prudence is also intimately connected with prayer. As St. Edith Stein wrote, the world needs women “who have a knowledge of life, prudence and practical ability ... women whose lives are imperturbably rooted in God” (Essays on Woman 139). What is prudent in one situation may not be prudent in another, and each requires an evaluation of the best course of action. In difficult situations, we can pray for guidance to discern that course of action.

2020: Prudence in Action

2020, more so than other years, required near-constant exercise of prudence, and women emerged as prudent leaders during times of crisis. For example, in the early days of the pandemic, Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern of New Zealand took measures to slow the spread of COVID in her country. An early lockdown resulted in minimal community transmission of COVID, and life was able to go back to normal in New Zealand. To her acclaim, she won reelection in a landslide after proving herself to be a compassionate and capable leader.

Angela Merkel of Germany and Tsai Ing-Wen of Taiwan were also hailed for their responses to COVID. Each of these three women headed their countries against the backdrop of a pandemic where fatalities were twice as high in countries headed by men than in countries headed by women. As Shaheena Janjuha-Jivraj wrote in Forbes, these leaders took “a broader view beyond economic results to consider wider impact on society.” Each of these women met the needs of their country by discerning what was required of them as leaders. Their behavior was prudence in action.

‍Even for women who aren’t elected leaders, 2020 provided an abundance of opportunities to showcase their prudence. Women had to discern which social engagements to attend or avoid, considering the risks of COVID transmission. Women were educated voters who had to select political candidates. Mothers, especially single mothers, had to weigh whether to send their children back to school or continue remote learning. In these ways, women provided essential leadership to their families and showcased their ability to lead effectively.

Women’s leadership abilities are not only on display in the home and the family. Research has shown that employees working for female bosses have higher levels of engagement, especially during a pandemic, where interpersonal relationships are key.

‍Women have untapped potential to lead in times of crises and to make prudent choices for themselves, those they lead, and their families. We are uniquely situated to use sensitivity in conjunction with prudence in order to discern courses of action. It’s time for the world to see that women can lead prudently and confidently.

Women are uniquely situated to use sensitivity in conjunction with prudence in order to discern courses of action.

What is it like to work in the world of health care as a Catholic feminist? I asked two professionals to find out.

Stacy Claypool, Forensic Nurse Examiner and Registered Nurse

How did you become a forensic nurse examiner and registered maternity nurse? How do these two aspects of your job work together?

I became a forensic nurse examiner through working as a RN in the emergency department (ED). At a mandatory annual training program, I met the manager of the forensics team for the hospital system. Since I was in college, I had wanted to be a sexual assault nurse examiner, so this fulfilled a dream of mine. I love to explore different areas of medicine and health and, as a RN, it is easy to change jobs or areas of focus. I’ve worked in ICUs (intensive care units), EDs (emergency departments), NICUs (neonatal intensive care units), and now maternity. The forensics job took more effort on my part, though, because I had to know someone to get in.

The maternity and forensics jobs do intersect some, because I see a lot of domestic or interpersonal violence. Doing both of these jobs helps me gain understanding of the mental, emotional, and sometimes spiritual health of my patients. However, I would say I feel more of a vocational fulfillment by working in forensics. I like maternity, but I see it more as my main source of income rather than my calling. If a patient comes to the ED requesting to see a forensic nurse examiner, [they are] at the end of their rope and in utter despair. Half of the time, they are homeless or will be if they leave their abuser.

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Doing both of these jobs helps me gain understanding of the mental, emotional, and sometimes spiritual health of my patients.

What does a typical day look like in your job?

For my forensics job, each member of our team does 24 hours of on-call per month. I sign up for the days I want to be on call, and then I wait for one of the emergency departments to call me, saying that a case came in. It might be a rape case, domestic or interpersonal violence, strangulation, or physical assault (based on the nature of the injuries due to the laws in my state). If I get called in, I work one-on-one with my patient.

Forensic nursing is an extremely detail-oriented job. I have various kits (such as a rape kit) that I use to collect evidence for police, if the patient wants me to. I have to be very careful in collecting evidence so I don’t contaminate the specimens with DNA from myself or other people. I also have to be very detailed with my charting, because forensic nurses can be called to be expert witnesses if cases go to trial.

Finally, I set my patients up with food, clothing, shelter, social workers, or counseling, if need be. For sexual assaults, we give STI prophylaxis medication, including HIV prophylaxis.

As a maternity nurse, I take care of six to eight patients at a time. With COVID changes and hospitals letting nurses go to save money, though, sometimes I have 10. My day is basically spent juggling all of my patients. We work 12 hour shifts (7:00 a.m. - 7:00 p.m.), but often, we don’t actually leave work until much later.

My general responsibilities include physical assessments and taking vital signs on all moms and babies; helping with breastfeeding, pumping, and bottle feeding; delivering and picking up meal trays; aiding the physician in circumcisions or frenotomies; jaundice assessments and phototherapy; newborn screens; weighing the baby every day, etc. We also help moms who have postpartum hemorrhages, pre-eclampsia or eclampsia with or without seizures or strokes, and babies that go to the NICU or code and pass away.

In addition to working with the patients themselves, we take care of families who experience fetal demise or babies who pass away after birth. We tend to their emotional and mental needs, try our best to be there for them if they desire to hold their baby, create memorial books for them, and coordinate with pastoral care to arrange for funerals.

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What is it like to work in forensics as a Catholic feminist? Do any aspects of your Catholicism or feminism present challenges or benefits in your job?

I work for a Catholic hospital institution for both of my jobs. I would say my faith as a Catholic does help me, because I pray for my patients and ask God to speak through me when I take care of them.

I would say my faith as a Catholic does help me, because I pray for my patients and ask God to speak through me when I take care of them.

What advice do you have for young Catholic feminists who are considering your career path?

My advice for anyone who wants to be a RN is this: Think long and hard about it. If I could do it over again, I don’t know that I would be a nurse. Every year that I’m a nurse, it gets worse: more patients, more responsibility, less staff and — most importantly — less safety. You are the last to be appreciated and the first to be blamed. If someone dies on your watch, the hospital will not take the blame. They will hang you out to dry in the courts and the Board of Nursing.

My advice for anyone who wants to be a RN is this: Think long and hard about it.

The hospitals all say that they are nonprofit, that their culture is different, and that “they really do want to help people and make a difference.” However, they don’t. The top people in the hospitals make millions of dollars while patients suffer and die due to lack of staff and resources. Unfortunately, working for a Catholic or other Christian hospital is no different.

I would only consider being a nurse if I lived out west or in a state with widespread nurses’ unions; that is the only way that hospitals will listen and do the right thing for the patient. It is not enough to have one hospital in your city with a nurses’ union; it needs to be almost every hospital in the area so that they compete with each other.

Is there a devotion (a saint, particular prayer, etc.) that has been especially precious to you in your job?

There is not a saint at this time that I pray to for my job, but I ask for the intercession of St. Mary Magdalene (my patron saint) and our Blessed Virgin Mother quite often for all sorts of things.

Molly Franzonello: Systems and Policy Administrator

How did you get into the business side of health care?

After I graduated college with a Bachelor of Science in health sciences and a minor in humanitarian affairs, I was unsure which aspect of health care I wanted to pursue. So, I decided to apply for AmeriCorps VISTA. Through AmeriCorps, I was placed in a hospital program at the Medical University of South Carolina called Coastal Connections, which has a mission to connect uninsured and underinsured patients with their other needs, known as "wrap around services." Through this program, I worked with a group of volunteers to reach out to patients and direct them to where their needs could be met; for example, where they could get a free or low-cost mattress, food, and consistent help with medical expenses.

My interest in the socioeconomic determinants of health soared, and I worked to convince high-level hospital administrators to secure more funding for the Coastal Connections program. That’s where I found my niche: I enjoyed working with multidisciplinary teams of clinical staff and administrators to solve problems. Within a couple years of my AmeriCorps VISTA experience, I pursued a graduate degree in health systems management. After the completion of my MHA (Master of Health Administration), I sought work at mission- and service-driven hospital systems, which led me to my first job at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland.

There are parts of working on the business and operations side of health care that have fulfilled me, such as coalition- and relationship-building and impacting patients' lives through quality projects. I have been more attracted to the policy side of things since taking on a role that showed me how much policy can influence health systems and, in turn, patients.

I think it's a process for your profession to feel like a vocation — I definitely know that I'm still on the journey. I am always learning what I’m most interested in, and day by day, I feel like I'm getting drawn towards the calling that God has for me. I know He will use my skills and knowledge for the good of His kingdom, especially as I continue to discern and invite Him into decisions about my next steps. Right now, I have a lot of irons in the fire for the future.

What does a typical day look like for you at your job?

I work for the National Capital Region Market on a team that monitors primary care clinics at 13 military medical treatment facilities for compliance with the Defense Health Agency's policies. I meet with clinicians and administrators, pull data, create presentations, and build coalitions, forming relationships between primary care leadership from the different facilities. Since COVID-19, I have drafted interim emergency response policy and contributed to COVID-19 response planning at the systems level.

What is it like to work in health care business and operations as a Catholic feminist? Do any aspects of your Catholicism or feminism present challenges or benefits in your job?

As a Catholic feminist, I have found working in a male-dominated military climate difficult at times. Fortunately, I’ve worked with some strong women of faith who have encouraged me. Since military culture is very hierarchical, it can sometimes be daunting to disagree or present opposing views to leaders higher up in the organization. I have learned to lean on my skills and use data to support my ideas. Building good relationships and using mindfulness in my interactions is also helpful.Being a Catholic feminist has meant treating others with dignity and respect (even when I don’t receive the same in return) and valuing work ethic and humility as core parts of who I am in the work place. I’m not perfect, but I try to live by the expression, “They will know we are Christians by our love.” In the workplace, as a woman, I believe that I can make connections and live out the feminine genius simply by being the best woman I can be.

Being a Catholic feminist has meant treating others with dignity and respect (even when I don’t receive the same in return) and valuing work ethic and humility as core parts of who I am in the work place.

What advice do you have for young Catholic feminists who are considering your career path?

For young Catholic feminists considering a career in health care, I would say that the world is your oyster! Now, more than ever, we are in need of Catholic women who are in touch with and knowledgeable about Catholic social teaching. As health care grows more and more complex, it is important to have the context of faith as clinicians, administrators, and policy makers encounter issues in bioethics and the care of the human person. At every level of health care, women can draw connections to God's love for humanity. Standing strong in your Faith and becoming knowledgeable in health care delivery will make you an anomaly.

It is important to have the context of faith as clinicians, administrators, and policy makers encounter issues in bioethics and the care of the human person.

Is there a devotion (a saint, particular prayer, etc.) that has been especially precious to you in your job?

Mother Teresa has always been a source of inspiration for me. Not only did she care for people in a genuine way, but she also created and mobilized systems to care for people through the Missionaries of Charity. I think of her when my patience is thin, or when I feel numb or unsure about the next steps.

Mother Teresa has always been a source of inspiration for me. I think of her when my patience is thin, or when I feel numb or unsure about the next steps.

In the book “Mother Teresa: Come be My Light,” I learned that Mother Teresa experienced an intense trial of faith — a true "dark night" of the soul — where she felt nothing from God; yet, she still pressed on with her charity work. I also have a devotion to Mary, and praying the rosary helps me a lot in making decisions and daily trials.

Please read at your discretion. This article contains adult language and mentions of sexual trauma.

I wish there were a magic formula to bring sexual assault survivors back to God. I wish my story could bring those abused by priests back to the Church. I wish I could reach every survivor and hold them until they feel healed and at peace.

I know the psychological warfare that besieges survivors. I know how their self-esteem can be non-existent, replaced by a constant stream of negative thoughts. You deserve every insult ever hurled at you because it happened, right?

There’s no escaping it. It lives in front of you, behind you, beside you every day. It even lives inside you. It is the motion picture on the projector screen playing over and over again in your head.

This is why survivors have the life sentence — and not the abusers. Survivors relive it every day, barely making it from moment to moment. I know, because I am one of them.

Before I begin my story, I should tell you that I am not a cradle Catholic. I was raised in a devout Protestant household. Growing up, my family and I were not members of one particular denomination. Instead, my parents took my siblings and me to a variety of Protestant churches in our small hometown.

When I went off to college at a secular school, I was one of maybe five students who regularly attended religious services on Sundays. I was a virgin in college. I had never dated, I had never been kissed, and I had never held hands with someone. So I never expected what was to come in my sophomore year of college.

At the age of 20, I was raped by a young pastor whom I had met through the religious services held on campus. To protect other survivors, I won’t go into details of the assault, but there are a few details that I must share. During the assault, he recited Bible verses and told me that he was “raping me into being a better Christian.” As hard as it may be to believe this, while I was being raped, I saw Jesus standing there in the flesh, maybe 10 feet away from my reach in the doorway of my dorm room. He looked right into my eyes, shook His head disapprovingly, and walked through the door, leaving me alone with my assailant.

On that day 10 years ago, I buried whatever Christianity I had within me, and I hammered the final nail into the coffin, hopefully sealing it forever. February 27 became more significant than my own birthday. It was a day of silence and deep loneliness. I felt like my soul had died. I was an empty shell of a person. When I looked to my family for support, I found none. My own mother called me a “sl*t” and told me on multiple occasions, for years, that I was damaged goods and that no man would ever marry me. She brought me to church that Sunday after the assault. She told me that I had to “ask God for forgiveness for being a wh*re.” I was devastated. I thought my mother would be the one person who would support me. I spent the next seven to eight years trying to force myself into being an atheist or at least agnostic. How could I ever trust a God who allowed something like this to happen to His people? I stopped going to church and renounced my faith.

At the epitome of my despair, I even told people that if Jesus Christ manifested Himself in front of me in the flesh, I would kill Him. Even more so — I meant it. I was beyond angry with God and myself. I spiraled into a deep depression, riddled with PTSD, self-harm, and suicide attempts. I tried to numb my pain. I wanted to only feel “good emotions.” However, we, as human beings, cannot selectively numb emotions. If we numb the dark emotions, we also numb the positive emotions. This led me to become what I call “an emotional zombie.” I stared blankly when hearing any news, whether it be the death of a loved one or the birth of a healthy baby. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t smile. I was in utter despair — without even feeling it.

We, as human beings, cannot selectively numb emotions. If we numb the dark emotions, we also numb the positive emotions.

As the months turned into years, I began going to therapy to work on my mental health. And, thanks to grace, I began to slowly make great strides with an amazing therapist. I was eventually able to trust again. I began dating and, in the course of time, I even met the love of my life and married him. And he loved me for me and he did not see me as damaged goods but, rather, as his beloved. I was happier than I had been in years, yet something was still missing.

I couldn’t forgive myself, because I thought that God could never forgive me. I had turned my back on Him, a mortal sin in the Church. Plus, the thought of opening my heart to Christ, the very person who had left me by myself to be raped by one of His followers, made me want to vomit. Jesus had to hate me for letting me be raped, right? So, how could I ever stop hating myself?

One day, my husband and I took a tour of St. Mary’s Catholic Church in German Village, because my ancestors had donated stained glass to that church over a century ago. The church was so beautiful that I decided to attend Mass there one Sunday. I wasn’t instantly enthralled by the Mass, but it did inspire me to learn about my ancestors’ faith — in the name of research, of course.

At that point in my life, I was too scared to admit that I needed God again and I knew that I wasn't ready to go directly to the Source. I was still terrified of men, and I was scared of the masculinity of the Trinity. But, I found myself learning about the Blessed Virgin Mary and the communion of saints. I dove into readings about St. Maria Goretti, St. Agnes, St. Agatha, St. Joan of Arc, and so many more. I spent months researching saints who had been raped, abused, or assaulted in some way. I tried to find solace in them. I began praying, asking them to guide me to their Savior. Yet, He was not yet mine, and I was only trying to force a relationship that wasn’t there. I was once again lost in a wasteland filled with despair.

One day, I spent hours in deep prayer and meditation. During my prayer, I had a vision of a woman who came to me. She was not the Virgin Mary, nor any of the saints that I had researched, but she said she was Mary Magdalene. She sat with me in my abandonment, in my despair, in my loneliness, in my self-hatred. It was there that I no longer felt alone.

This was the woman of whom seven demons were cast out, the woman who followed Jesus to the foot of the Cross, and the woman whom the Lord first appeared to after His Resurrection. Mary Magdalene had led me to my Savior. She seemed to know the pain I had experienced during my abuse. She seemed to understand my problems with the patriarchy and the pitfalls of a religion that seemed to be led by sinners. Mary Magdalene had helped me soften and open up my heart to be healed by Him.

As time went on, I decided to open up to a Catholic friend of mine. I knew I needed to talk to a priest, but I was terrified that he, too, would hurt me. My friend immediately gave me the name of a woman in the local parish. It took time, but I worked up enough courage to call her and explain my situation. She told me that she, too, had been sexually assaulted, but by a priest. She then gave me the name of the priest who had helped bring her healing after her own sexual assault and who had assisted the Diocese in removing her assailant from the priesthood in the Church — for good.

It didn’t take long for my husband and me to make the trip and meet with this wonderful priest. When I told him my story, he comforted me by telling me that it was not me that Jesus was shaking His head and turning away from but my rapist. That thought had never occurred to me before. In Scripture, we hear Jesus say that He is close to those who are crushed with a broken spirit (Psalm 34:18).

Through my new Catholic allies and Mary Magdalene’s guidance, I was brought to Jesus, to the Trinity, to the Eucharist for true healing. Mary Magdalene has even become my patron saint, and I will be glad to take her name on my Confirmation this upcoming Easter.

Through my new Catholic allies and Mary Magdalene’s guidance, I was brought to Jesus, to the Trinity, to the Eucharist for true healing.

Once more, I wish there were a magic formula to bring survivors a sense of peace and genuine belief that God is still there for them. But every survivor’s experience is unique. There are a few things that I have learned from my trusted priest ally, the Catechism, and, of course, our Lord, who has brought me healing:

1. “Rape is an act of violence in which a person forces a sexual act on an unwilling partner. Rape deeply wounds the respect, freedom, and physical and moral integrity to which every person has a right […] It is always an intrinsically evil act” (CCC 2356, emphasis added).
2. Sexual abuse of any kind harms the victim on many more levels than only the physical. Rape “causes grave damage that can mark the victim for life” (CCC 2356).
3. You are strong and courageous.
4. It was not your fault. The perpetrator is solely to blame.
5. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit love you.
   
6. Those who do not support and comfort you in your time of need are terribly misguided.
7. Do not turn your back on God. If you need to be angry, be angry. Heave it up to the Lord. Tell Him that you are a frayed survivor covered in ash in a fallen world. Your feelings are valid — even the rage, even the extreme sadness. The only way to get out of our dark emotions is to enter into them and work through them. Let yourself have your feelings, but at the end of the day, know that God is there when you are ready.
8. Silence has the rusty taste of shame. Survivors do not need to carry the burden of silence and shame when they already carry the memories. Tell someone, whether it be a trusted friend, a saint, or, if you are ready, God. Open your heart, and let love in.

The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit love you.

“Do you have a name for this baby?” she asked.

“Um, no,” I responded.

After sharing that my husband and I had our second pregnancy loss, I received this question often from my friends.

In Amoris Laetitia, Pope Francis writes something that still makes my imagination run wild:

“The gift of a new child, entrusted by the Lord to a father and a mother, begins with acceptance, continues with lifelong protection and has as its final goal the joy of eternal life. By serenely contemplating the ultimate fulfilment of each human person, parents will be even more aware of the precious gift entrusted to them. For God allows parents to choose the name by which he himself will call their child for all eternity” (166, emphasis added).

I had never considered the liberty God grants us in allowing us to name our children, but naming is something He has invited us to do since the dawn of Creation. In the beginning, God allows Adam to name the creatures (Gen. 2:19). In essence, we speak on God’s behalf. This is the first moment when humanity fulfills its prophetic role, a role we lost in the Fall and regain in the gift of Baptism, when our roles of priest, prophet, and king are restored. Naming is momentous. Naming makes us co-creators. In the midst of losing these babies, I wanted to hide from this role.

I knew people who chose a name for a child they lost before birth. It is a wonderful way to remember and make them a regular part of conversation and family life. I liked this idea — until I had a pregnancy loss myself. Like anything in life, you have ideas about certain experiences when you’re standing outside of them. Holding onto those ideas is a guiding force. But once you’re standing in those experiences? Be prepared to loosen your grip.

I have a 2-½-year-old. Naming her wasn’t a rushed process. We had a few names we liked but decided we wanted to lay our eyes on her before making a permanent choice. Names evoke a certain feeling and conjure memories. We wanted to see if a name would bubble up in our hearts when we stared at her face for the first time. The process we chose for naming her was one of my favorite parts of pregnancy and childbirth. I cannot explain the rush I felt as she was delivered into my arms. My husband and I just looked at one another. I said, “Mary?” and he nodded.

Naming the two babies we lost before birth was meant to be part of the healing process, but I wanted it to feel authentic. I wanted it to feel real. I didn’t want to name them simply for my own sake. My husband and I wanted answers to impossible questions. What were they going to look like? What would that pregnancy be like? All of the knowledge that played a role in “naming” my oldest child was unavailable to me. And this doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the more primordial questions I had around ensoulment, sex, and gender. I wondered — what began in me? Who began in me?

The only way I could settle down was to develop — in my mind and heart — a basic spiritual posture toward pregnancy loss. It was born out of a few things I knew for sure:

God Didn’t Cause Our Pregnancy Loss

Despite their best efforts to offer comfort, people still attributed these losses to “God’s will.” I knew this wasn’t a test from Him or something that was “meant to happen.” However, He is in the midst of it, redeeming our suffering and incorporating even the worst moments into His plan of salvation. He’s done it over and over again throughout history. Why would our experience be an exception?

I Knew These Babies

Perhaps I had never seen them or “gotten to know them.” But, as a Catholic, I embrace the oneness of the body and soul. Though they were hidden from my eyes, my body “knew” them. So I knew them.

As a Catholic, I embrace the oneness of the body and soul. Though they were hidden from my eyes, my body “knew” them. So I knew them.

I Still Want to Know Them More

This bodily way of knowing them still leaves me dissatisfied. As a pilgrim people, we’re journeying toward the Source of our desires, the Answer to our questions. This dissatisfaction shapes the path of my pilgrimage on earth.

Dissatisfaction and Inner Peace Aren’t Mutually Exclusive

A few decades of living as a Christian have proved this to be true: I can be hungry for a Love not found on earth and be joyful and hopeful here, too. I can desire an answer this world cannot offer and experience peace and contentment in this midst of this desire. This paradox is classic to the Christian life, because we are not an “either/or” people: either tumult or peace, either contemplative prayer or acts of service. We are a people who embrace everything in Reality — suffering, joy, celibacy, marriage. There is no shortage of “both/ands” in Christianity.

I can be hungry for a Love not found on earth and be joyful and hopeful here, too. I can desire an answer this world cannot offer and experience peace and contentment in this midst of this desire.

We’re All Being Held

Someone remarked that I was “womb and tomb” for these babies. This statement seemed trite at the time but was incredibly helpful when I let it take on real meaning in prayer. What would it be like to spend your entire life being held? To never be outside of the embrace of the one who loves you most, from the moment of your conception to death? This was the experience of these two babies. They didn’t know what it was like to be apart from me.

Hans Urs von Balthasar writes about the child as a paradigm for the spiritual life. The reason Jesus names children “heavenly ambassadors” is because they model, on a fundamental level, the posture that we should all take before God: to be utterly present and aware of our need.

The distance between me and a childlike faith is vast. Though we were together for such a brief time, these two babies made me aware of my need: that without my Creator’s embrace, I am nothing. My prayer in light of this experience has been, “Lord, I don’t want to know what it’s like to be apart from You.”

Though we were together for such a brief time, these two babies made me aware of my need: that without my Creator’s embrace, I am nothing.

Words elicit emotional responses — whether we acknowledge it or not — and the word “feminism” invokes a range of responses. Some are positive, such as feelings of power and freedom. Others are reactions to perceived notions of selfishness, self-righteousness, and maybe even evil. Another word that might spark such a variety of reactions is “Catholic.” The word might make some think of home, love, and peace, while others think of hypocrisy, control, and judgment.

We ought to ask ourselves: What is at the foundation of these words? What is the truth behind what they mean? What happens when we combine them and speak of Catholic feminism? If we examine the essence of secular feminism and Catholic feminism, can we discover insights that they might learn from one another?

The Limitations of Secular Feminism

Growing up, a young girl is told that she can be anything she wants, that she does not need a man to be happy, that she is her own person — strong, independent, and capable. And this belief will encourage her to become a woman who looks after herself and fights for what she believes in. Secular feminism will serve as a guidepost for her, with its proclamation that women are worthy and capable of doing and becoming anything that a man can do or be. The advocacy for equity of treatment for the sexes defines feminism, and it seems simple and easy enough to support. Women are equally as valuable as men; how complicated can that be?

At its roots, this equal value is what secular feminism preaches. However, as this concept is applied to different aspects of life, it becomes muddled and begins to saturate the world with toxic mindsets. When secular feminism asserts that women can perform the same jobs as men, it is good. The problem lies in how secular feminism often goes about making this equity a reality. Rather than allowing women to work in these positions as women, some secular feminists subscribe to the notion that a woman must be more like a man in order to do so.

Rather than allowing women to work in these positions as women, some secular feminists subscribe to the notion that a woman must be more like a man in order to do so.

Examples of this notion include the portrayal of contraception as essential to a woman’s successful career, paired with a lack of support for working mothers. It can also be seen in the “stay quiet and adapt” mantra that many working women adopt, which leads them to tolerate practices that disadvantage women instead of speaking up for themselves. It is a mindset that tells a woman she must figure out solutions to “female-only” problems by herself, rather than advocate for change for all women, because she doesn’t want to be the squeaky wheel or the “problem employee.” This unintentional, negative side effect of secular feminism can lead companies to have a “token woman” employee or a female quota, thus inviting women to pit themselves against each other in the pursuit of a professional career.

Equal acceptance of women and men seems to be the name of the game for secular feminism. In some ways, secular feminists have mastered the art of suspending judgment and keeping an open mind by encouraging women to be whoever they want to be, regardless of how it might create waves in society. This open mind is exemplified in the diverse population of people who call themselves “feminists”; human beings of all races, religions, and sexualities identify as such. Secular feminism presents itself as a realm where all people are accepted.

At the same time, a problem arises from the lack of responsibility for the human soul when secular feminism pitches certain lifestyles. Autonomy, the ability to make choices, and personal expression are all important. However, in the pursuit of these goals, secular feminism often shies away from the negative effects of the extremes of these endeavors. When it speaks of body autonomy and the pro-choice position, it neglects the aftermath in the life of a post-abortive woman as she strives to move forward. When it promotes sexual liberation, it denies the emotional toll inflicted on a woman and the emptiness she feels in heartbreak. Secular feminism invites people in, but it lacks the ability to nurture their souls and, therefore, provide sound guidance through life’s trials.

Secular feminism invites people in, but it lacks the ability to nurture their souls and, therefore, provide sound guidance through life’s trials.

The Answer: Catholic Feminism

This gap is where Catholic feminism can step in, but first, we must address the deep wounds that the word “Catholic” can exacerbate. At present, there is sometimes a stigma that implies that all Catholics are judgmental and, at times, even hypocritical. This stigma is detrimental to Catholicism as a whole but also to Catholic feminism specifically. It sends the message that certain groups of people are not welcome, and it pushes away people who need the healing love of God and the grace He offers through His Church.

At its foundation, Catholic feminism shares the same basic goal of secular feminism: equitable treatment for the sexes. However, Catholic feminism does not stop there. Catholic feminism is rooted in a call to love all persons — no matter who they are or the magnitude of their sins. Our call to love as Jesus does necessitates a respect for the equal dignity of man and woman, as the Lord has created them.

Our call to love as Jesus does necessitates a respect for the equal dignity of man and woman, as the Lord has created them.

An issue arises when, instead of acknowledging the imperfect nature of human beings and striving to improve, we, as individual Catholics, outwardly express a type of elitism and judgment towards people who have strayed from the path toward virtue. If we act out of elitism and judgment, we might ostracize the people who need Catholic feminism the most: women who desire to be treated according to their dignity and empowered to live in a way that brings them genuine fulfillment.

The essence of Catholic feminism is love and the equal dignity of all persons. We offer it not just as a Band-Aid solution for the faults and failings of our world but in order to facilitate profound, loving relationships between human persons. In the areas where secular feminism offers a short-sighted or incomplete solution that doesn’t truly resolve the problems a woman faces, Catholic feminism offers healing for the individual that reaches the root of those problems.

Catholic feminism practices working through life’s challenges together, emphasizing that women have equal dignity as women and that they don’t need to be like men in order to receive just treatment. Furthermore, it encourages finding solutions that honor the inherent differences between women and men. While secular feminism strives for equality, it often tears down what it means to be female and prompts women to stifle their femininity. In contrast, Catholic feminism acknowledges, honors, and embraces the unique aspects of woman.

Catholic feminism encourages finding solutions that honor the inherent differences between women and men.

While secular feminism does well at inviting all people in, the “solutions” it offers women do not fix the problems they face; in fact, some of the solutions it prescribes are harmful to women. Catholic feminism does offer genuine solutions that fix the root of these problems; however, individual Catholics do not always do a good job of inviting in all people.

Extending the Invitation

So, how can Catholic feminists learn from secular feminists and more openly invite others in? It starts with acknowledging that no one is perfect. We are all human beings living in a fallen world, and we are all sinners.

We must root all of our actions in love. Rather than looking at others with eyes that are poised to judge, we must humble ourselves and look at everyone as a child of God who possesses a dignity equal to our own.

Rather than looking at others with eyes that are poised to judge, we must humble ourselves and look at everyone as a child of God who possesses a dignity equal to our own.

Practically, “inviting others in” looks like listening with our mouths shut and ears open. It takes the form of words of love and compassionate questions that ask “why” instead of arguments over a singular point of view. It includes listening to others’ stories and saying “I love you,” even when we disagree. It requires approaching people on the fringes of society and offering support. For it is only through opening doors that we can begin to change hearts.

It’s no secret that sex is talked about everywhere these days — everywhere, it seems, except where it should be talked about the most: between husbands and wives.

For whatever reason, in the battle to heal the wounds left by the Sexual Revolution, some people of faith (including Catholics) decided that sex is a taboo topic. Perhaps we avoid it out of fear that we will treat it with the same perverse triviality that our culture does — or, worse, that the topic will titillate us and lead us into sin.

However, in swinging the pendulum so far in the opposite direction of the culture, we have committed our own error: We have made it seem like it is never OK (or even good) to discuss sex, even within the context of a loving, holy, sacramental marriage. Before we dive into what kinds of conversation husbands and wives should have about sex, we must first address why these conversations aren’t already happening.

Some Necessary Background

We seem to have two options when it comes to our worldview on sex: purity culture or eroticism. But neither view is Catholic. Purity culture leads us to believe that sex is simply a utilitarian necessity for making children, a duty we owe our spouse (read: husband), and something that will leave us (read: women) “less than” if indulged in before saying our vows. Eroticism, on the other hand, tells us that pleasure is the highest goal and that, so long as there is consent, anything and everything goes. Ironically, both ends of the spectrum use language that suggests that sex is dirty, and both misguided ideas tend to directly harm women more often than men.

As a result, faithful married couples might believe that enjoying and/or talking about sex is somehow dirty or sinful. The truth is that God designed sex to be beautiful and life-giving, both in the form of children and in a spiritual, mental, and emotional sense for the spouses. Sex is amazing, because it can create life and bring spouses unitive pleasure.

The truth is that God designed sex to be beautiful and life-giving, both in the form of children and in a spiritual, mental, and emotional sense for the spouses.

The key to combatting the two extreme, bleak views of sex is understanding the Church’s teaching that sex is both unitive and procreative, and that both of these purposes are primary.

Stay with me for a brief lesson in the history of Canon Law. I promise it’s relevant.

In 1983, the Code of Canon Law was rewritten to update and amend the previous 1917 version. This does not mean that Church teaching changed. Canon Law has been revised throughout its history to clarify and reflect the totality of Truth, and so this revision is simply evidence that we continue to learn and grow as a Body of Christ. Take, for example, the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. It has always been true, but it was not formalized until 1854 by Pope Pius IX in Ineffabilis Deus.

While the 1917 Code of Canon Law stated that procreation alone was the primary purpose of marriage and that union was secondary, the 1983 Code, which was overseen by Pope St. John Paul II, says this:

“The matrimonial covenant, by which a man and a woman establish between themselves a partnership of the whole of life and which is ordered by its nature to the good of the spouses and the procreation and education of offspring, has been raised by Christ the Lord to the dignity of a sacrament between the baptized” (Can. 1055 §1).

The USCCB said it even more explicitly: “Marriage has two fundamental ends or purposes towards which it is oriented, namely, the good of the spouses as well as the procreation of children. Thus, the Church teaches that marriage is both unitive and procreative, and that it is inseparably both” (Marriage: Love and Life in the Divine Plan 11, emphasis added).

This dual primacy of union and procreation is not new; rather, it is a clarification of what has always been true. God commanded Adam and Eve to be fruitful and multiply (Gen 1:28), and He also said that the two become one flesh (Gen 2:24). Marriage has always been about both!

Why does it matter? Because understanding that both procreation and union are of equal importance within sex and marriage is the key to having the great sex life and marriage that God intended you to have. If you have your doubts, ask yourself: Can two people who are not united through love in body, mind, and soul ever hope to help each other get to Heaven or be great parents?

Understanding that both procreation and union are of equal importance within sex and marriage is the key to having the great sex life and marriage that God intended you to have.

Union is necessary for the stability of the family which, within the realm of sex, means that pleasure is important.

Sex Is Good — but It Can Be Better

Sex is holisitic, meaning it involves all aspects of the person: spiritual, mental, physical, and emotional. It is, therefore, an activity that has to be learned on each of those levels.

I like to think of sex as a language. When we get married, we all receive the same letters and basic rules to help us grow in love and avoid use — but we all create a unique language that we only speak with our spouse. Sex is a profound form of communication in and of itself, but in order to tap into its unitive aspect, a husband and wife must talk about it, both inside and outside the bedroom. Great sex is not just about finding the right position and rubbing the right parts until climax is achieved. It’s about both spouses learning and loving a whole person with all that they are. Furthermore, it takes time, practice, and patience to achieve — which means that the couple must discuss it openly and frequently.

So, after that necessary background, here we are: five conversations you should have with your spouse about sex.

1. What You Do and Don’t Like

The body God made is good, and you and your spouse should explore it together. As you do, tell each other what you like or don’t like. Popular culture has labeled this conversation “talking dirty,” but there is nothing dirty about a husband and wife refining their communication skills in the most intimate area of their marriage. It’s good to express how something makes you feel, if you don’t like it, if you like it a lot, and especially what in particular helps you achieve orgasm. The purpose of this exploration and communication is deeper love — and marriage is all about deeper love.

There is nothing dirty about a husband and wife refining their communication skills in the most intimate area of their marriage.

2. When Sex Hurts

While a woman’s first sexual experiences will likely be uncomfortable as her body learns this new activity, if she experiences anything beyond a muscle stretch, something isn’t right. Despite what you may have heard (even from a doctor), pain during sex is always a sign that something is wrong, and it is never something a woman has to accept and power through.

The simplest issue to address is lack of sufficient lubrication or foreplay, both of which are necessary for comfortable penetration. A woman’s vaginal canal widens and lengthens as she becomes aroused during foreplay, meaning that for women, foreplay is a physiological necessity. More foreplay will likely be necessary during early sexual experiences, after having a baby, or any other time when a woman may be less easily aroused.

While the vagina does produce arousal fluid, it is normal for many women to find this natural lubrication insufficient and need additional lubrication. If penetration is uncomfortable for these reasons, the couple should stop, amp up the foreplay, add more lube, and try again. Discussing these sensations and physiological feelings with your spouse is critically important.

Other issues that cause painful sex are more serious and may require formal interventions. They include:

• Endometriosis, a disorder in which tissue similar to the endometrium grows outside the uterus, often requiring surgery for diagnosis and treatment.
• Vaginismus, a condition where the vaginal muscles constrict, making penetration difficult or impossible. Both pelvic floor physical therapy and massage (and, often, psychological therapy) are usually required for treatment. A woman with this condition would not be able to insert tampons or receive a routine pelvic exam without experiencing extreme pain.
• Sexual abuse, traumas, or even extreme fears or disgust caused by purity culture — all of which could be helped by some form of psychological therapy, such as EMDR.
• Extreme vaginal dryness associated commonly with menopause, which can be treated with low-dosage estrogen creams.

3. Learning Each Other (Outside the Bedroom)

One of the most vital — and yet overlooked — ways to spice up your sex life is simply getting to know your spouse outside the bedroom. It is true for most women that sex follows a deep emotional connection. In fact, they can have difficulty achieving orgasm without that connection, even if everything is physically functioning correctly. Men, on the other hand, may find that sex is helpful to connect emotionally with their wives.

When the couple understands these facts in the context of sacramental marriage, it lends itself to a loving back-and-forth between spouses, a healthy give-and-take that bolsters the relationship. Engaging in deep conversations, sharing hobbies or interests, and learning and acting on your love languages are all great ways to connect with your spouse — and add new, exciting dimensions to what goes on between the sheets.

4. Baggage, Traumas, or Habitual Sins

We all carry baggage with us into our marriage, because we are all sinners, but some baggage directly affects the bedroom in insidious ways. Purity culture, pornography addiction, and sexual abuse can dramatically ruin a couple’s full enjoyment of sex — and are areas where spouses should endeavor to be open and honest with each another.

Because of what we know about the psychological nature of shame, guilt, and fear surrounding these experiences, it may take time for these issues to come to light and be addressed. Patience from both spouses is key, along with frequenting the sacraments to experience God’s unconditional love and seeking appropriate psychological therapy when needed. Discussing how these issues have shaped your views of sex is difficult, but it can be incredibly healing — and absolutely worth it.

5. Different (but Complementary) Libidos and Desire

Sure, men may have stereotypically higher libidos than women (though plenty of women have higher libidos than their husband), and it seems to be the source of an endless stream of jokes, unrealistic expectations, and even the prioritization of a man’s sexual needs over a woman’s.

What we might not consider, however, is that the differing libidos of men and women could be purposefully designed by God to set up a complementary give-and-take in the bedroom. Think of it this way: We could spend our lives seeking self-fulfillment, or we could spend our lives focused on discovering our spouse’s needs and then fulfilling them. We receive what we desire in both scenarios, but the first usually ends in dissatisfaction and isolation, whereas the second is that kind of self-gift that ends in deeper love.

A Feast Worth Discussing

There’s a reason we Catholics sometimes refer to sex as the “nuptial banquet”: because it is one, a veritable feast that God Himself made. God designed men and women in a complementary fashion, and sex is a fun, beautiful, and mysterious realm where we get to explore this truth. Husbands and wives should freely delight in this banquet, motivated not by fear (which is never from God) but by deep love and respect for the way God made us. What a wonderful thing to talk about!

God designed men and women in a complementary fashion, and sex is a fun, beautiful, and mysterious realm where we get to explore this truth.

In his recent motu proprio Spiritus Domini, Pope Francis amended canon law to allow women to be formally instituted as lectors and acolytes. Specifically, Pope Francis changed one word in canon 230 § 1 (“lay men” to “lay persons”): “Lay persons who possess the age and qualifications established by decree of the conference of bishops can be admitted on a stable basis through the prescribed liturgical rite to the ministries of lector and acolyte.”

To some, this amendment may seem like old news. Women have been allowed to proclaim readings at the Mass and serve as altar servers for the past couple of decades. What, then, is the significance of this change?

The Ministries of Lector and Acolyte

The ministries of lector and acolyte are two of what were historically known as minor orders, received by a seminarian as part of his preparation to become a priest. Like many other aspects of Church life following Vatican II, the practice was reassessed in light of received tradition and lived experience. In Ministeria Quaedam, Pope Paul VI formally changed these orders to ministries, distinguishing them as roles that could be served by laymen by virtue of the Sacrament of Baptism, because all members of the Church share in Christ’s one priesthood.

Although lector and acolyte are similar in function, women have not yet served in these ministries as they are described in canon 230 §1. Rather, the provision is made for any layperson to “fulfill the function” of both lector and acolyte on a temporary basis when instituted ministers are not present (CIC 230 §1-2). Women (and, indeed, the vast majority of men) who proclaim readings at Mass and assist at the altar do so through this prescription.

Responding to the needs of the Church of the present time, Pope Francis deepens the theology of these ministries in light of their grounding in the baptismal priesthood. He writes:

“A doctrinal development has taken place in recent years which has highlighted how certain ministries instituted by the Church are based on the common condition of being baptized and the royal priesthood received in the Sacrament of Baptism; they are essentially distinct from the ordained ministry received in the Sacrament of Orders. A consolidated practice in the Latin Church has also confirmed, in fact, that these lay ministries, since they are based on the Sacrament of Baptism, may be entrusted to all suitable faithful, whether male or female” (Spiritus Domini, emphasis added).

There is much worth celebrating and pondering in light of this letter.

Affirming the Dignity of Women

Pope Francis’ expansion of these ministries to all the baptized communicates both the dignity of baptism and the dignity of women. The core identity of the baptized Christian is his or her baptism. She or he is “clothed with Christ” and a member of the Church. As St. Paul so eloquently describes in his letter to the Galatians, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free person, there is not male and female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (3:28). New life in Christ is the foundational identity of any believer, man or woman. It is this core identity that makes room for the ministries of lector and acolyte to be entrusted to women alongside men.

At the same time, it is meaningful that Pope Francis specifically stated that the female faithful also share in Christ’s royal priesthood. The dignity of woman is not due to something that she does but, rather, who she is in Christ. It is what makes possible ministry at the ambo and the altar. This recognition of the dignity of women is not new, although it is explicitly named in this particular canon. This is the principle of “lex orandi, lex credendi” at work: The law of prayer is the law of belief, meaning that any articulated truth of the Faith is first known through the language of prayer and worship.

The dignity of woman is not due to something that she does but, rather, who she is in Christ.

The Intentionality of Formal Institution

The main way the service of female liturgical ministers will change is the way in which they are formed and sent to minister. Lectors and acolytes are instituted through a prescribed liturgical rite. Aside from the liturgical rite for the consecration of virgins, this will be the only liturgical rite through which women are entrusted with service in the liturgy by their local bishop. Of course, men and women are both commissioned or may be offered a prayer of blessing and sending before serving in some capacity, but the ministries of lector and acolyte are offices that are conferred. Only in the absence of an instituted lector or acolyte are others needed to fulfill their functions (GIRM 100-101).

In establishing these ministries, Pope Paul VI said that they would be a sign of both the distinction and mutuality of clergy and laity. Expanding these ministries to women further strengthens this understanding: that women may serve — alongside lay men — within the liturgy as co-workers to ordained ministers, assisting the ministerial priest in his vocation.

The Rite of the Institution of a Lector culminates in the giving of a Bible, as the bishop says, “Take this book of holy Scripture and be faithful in handing on the Word of God, so that it might grow strong in the hearts of his people.” Similarly, an acolyte would receive a vessel containing either bread or wine to be consecrated, while hearing, “Take this vessel of bread for the celebration of the Eucharist. Make your life worthy of your service at the table of the Lord and of his Church.”

Opportunities in the Local Church

Outside of seminaries, there are currently only a handful of dioceses in the U.S. that form and institute laymen as acolytes, my local Archdiocese being one of them. The ministry is open to men who have served regularly as liturgical ministers and involves both theological and pastoral formation. Acolytes are instituted in order to assist the priest during the liturgy, as well as to help purify vessels after Communion.

There is now an opportunity to expand the practice of instituted acolytes and lectors. Not only can those dioceses that institute acolytes open these ministries to women, but the very nature of this conversation could prompt others to begin the practice of instituted ministries. The formal nature of instituted ministries invites further discernment and deepened appreciation and understanding of the mystery of Christ present in the liturgy.

The formal nature of instituted ministries invites further discernment and deepened appreciation and understanding of the mystery of Christ present in the liturgy.

In light of Pope Francis’ apostolic letter, some have been tempted to think in terms of rungs on a ladder — that this change could be a step toward the ordination of women. But the Church will always have a male-only priesthood, for Christ chose only men as his apostles. The opportunity in front of us is to recognize the goodness and the value of the ministries of lector and acolyte on their own — not as a step to something “more” but as a deeper realization of how women and men might fully, consciously, and actively participate in the liturgy according to their state in life.

This is the final part in our series that examines at the corporal works of mercy through a feminist lens. Earlier posts considered homelessness, imprisonment, and poverty.

Traditionally, justice is defined as giving to each his or her due. Women have aimed to fight against injustice by demanding the equality that is due to them; however, many of the advances that we have made came with compromise, especially when it comes to women’s bodies and what only they can do. Rather than change “a man’s world” to carve out a space for women and their unique bodies, society has allowed women into that world by requiring them to behave and exist like men do. Abortion, birth control, lack of maternity leave, and inflexible work hours and environments are the byproducts of this compromise. Authentic justice demands that women’s bodies be recognized in their differences, which exist even down to the cellular level.

Authentic justice demands that women’s bodies be recognized in their differences, which exist even down to the cellular level.

It seems that the medical field should be the area in which the uniqueness of the female body is best acknowledged. After all, don’t all medical professionals study anatomy and physiology? However, gender bias and injustice dominate the medical field as much as they dominate other areas. Most, if not all, women have had a doctor who didn’t believe their concerns, dismissed or underplayed their symptoms, or even gave them a misdiagnosis. The real differences that distinguish male and female bodies must be incorporated into everything from medical textbooks and training to medical trials and treatment for patients. After all, do women not make up half of the world’s population?

In 2019, the Commonwealth Fund published a report comparing the state of U.S. of women’s health care in the United States with that of 10 other wealthy nations. The study found that, among other issues:

“Women in the U.S. are three times more likely to die in childbirth than those in Sweden and Norway and are more emotionally distressed than women in Germany or France. [The study] also found that nearly half of U.S. women report problems with their medical bills, compared with only 2 percent of women in the U.K.”

This Commonwealth Fund report is not the only source that identifies these issues. Women in the U.S. face the same difficulties as men do with insurance coverage, finding doctors covered by that insurance, and confusing and surprising medical bills. Furthermore, women also face gender-specific issues such as maternal mortality rates, gender bias regarding their symptoms, and underfunded research on the diseases most fatal to women. Ultimately, the Commonwealth Fund study found that women in the U.S. are more sick than their international counterparts, and they face a broken health care system that was not created to serve them. From medical research to mental and reproductive health, women are often viewed only in light of the male norm, rather than as bodies with their own genetic makeup.

Prior to the implementation of the Affordable Care Act (ACA), the Commonwealth Fund reports, “being a woman was, in effect, a preexisting condition and in most states insurers in the individual market charged women higher premiums than men.” The Fund’s 2012 report found that “almost 90 percent of plans in the individual market did not offer maternity coverage and only nine states required insurers to include this benefit.”

Things have changed in a positive direction under the ACA to prevent discrimination based on preexisting conditions (such as pregnancy), include free maternity and preventative services and guaranteed access to health coverage for most working-age women. The authors of the Commonwealth Fund does caution that “it’s important to remember that despite the gains made with the ACA, there are still women who don’t have access to any affordable health insurance options [...] there’s over a million American women like this, with no affordable options.”

Medical Research and Normative Male Studies

In her fascinating book Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men, Caroline Criado Perez explores how a variety of industries are constructed primarily with men in mind — including the medical and pharmaceutical industries. Perez begins by pointing out that for years, medical education has focused on “a male ‘norm,’” with everything that falls outside that “norm” being designated as “atypical” or even “abnormal” (84). She surveyed various medical school curriculums and textbooks and found minimal sex-specific instruction and sex-specific models portrayed in textbook diagrams.

Research shows that there are sex differences in every tissue and organ system in the human body, as well as in “the prevalence, course and severity of a majority of common human diseases” (Perez 85). In fact, every cell has a sex, meaning that men and women are different “down to the cellular and molecular levels.” These sex differences are also seen in immune responses to vaccines and drug metabolism.

If sex differences can be found in every human cell, and if they affect the body’s response to medication, it should follow that medical research and testing account for these differences. However, Perez found that women have been largely excluded from medical research because “female bodies are, it is argued, too complex, too variable, too constantly to be tested on” and, therefore, integrating them into this research is seen as burdensome (86). This view doesn’t just affect human subjects; it even influences studies on animals; only 12% of research focused on female-prevalent diseases have featured female animals.

Perez also addresses how the menstrual cycle impacts several kinds of treatment, including antihistamines, antibiotics, and heart medications. She points out that when women are tested in research studies, they are usually only tested in the early follicular phase in order to “avoid the impact of the hormones on study outcomes” (87).

Other issues specific to women’s bodies and experience that are left out of testing include pregnancy and breastfeeding, including the most recent COVID-19 vaccine trials. The exclusion of women from clinical trials and the viewpoint that women’s issues are not a high priority leads Perez to ask, “How many treatments have women missed out on because they had no effect on male cells on which they were exclusively tested?” (88). She can provide at least one example: There are five times as many studies on erectile dysfunction (ED) as there are on PMS. The priority of male issues led a drug originally created for period pain to become a drug for ED because it is often male-dominated panels that decide which drugs receive the funding they need to move forward.

In her Ted Talk, Dr. Paula Johnson summarizes this issue well, arguing that we are leaving women’s health care to chance in two significant ways: “We’re not making the investment in fully understanding the extent of these sex differences [in the cells]” and “We aren’t taking what we’ve learned [about those differences] and routinely applying it to clinical care.” Ultimately, this means that women are up to 75% more likely to have an adverse reaction to a drug treatment than men.

Women’s Experiences at the Doctor’s Office

It is not only drug trials and subsequent treatment that prevent women from receiving the health care they need. Often, simply the experience of going to the doctor leads to more stress, less help, or fewer answers for women. Perez reveals that women’s physical pain is far more likely to be dismissed as “emotional” or psychosomatic, leaving women to routinely wait longer than men for treatment (95). When it comes to common diseases or problems like heart attacks, women are also often misdiagnosed, because the usual list of symptoms tends to include what appears more in male patients.

Often, simply the experience of going to the doctor leads to more stress, less help, or fewer answers for women.

Dr. Johnson provides three examples in which the sex differences in cells impact the health of women. The No. 1 killer of women in the U.S. is heart disease, yet the differences in how it manifests in women is not included in the “gold standard tests” used for diagnosis. The primary symptom we associate with a heart attack is chest pain; however, in most women, a heart attack feels more like fatigue or indigestion, leaving many women undiagnosed and untreated for what is their most deadly disease.

Dr. Johnson’s second example is the top cancer killer of women in the U.S.: lung cancer. She explains that certain genes in lung tumor cells are activated by estrogen, making women who are non-smokers more likely to be diagnosed with lung cancer than non-smoker men and implying that treatment should take their hormonal makeup in mind. Lastly, Dr. Johnson points to depression, which is the No. 1 cause of disability for women in the world today. She states that “women are 70% more likely to experience depression over their lifetimes compared to men. And even with this high prevalence, women are misdiagnosed between 30-50% of the time.” Women’s symptoms of depression differ from men’s, and MRIs show that there are sex differences in the brain in areas connected with mood. Still, “66% of the brain research that begins in animals is done in either male animals or animals whose sex is not defined,” according to Dr. Johnson.

Aside from the lack of equal research into female symptoms and treatments, a gender bias pervades the medical community, resulting in unequal and inadequate treatment for many women. One reason may be that “physicians are still relying on longstanding research, clinical trials and medical training” that is based on “the body of your average white guy.” This bias judges “men [as] silent stoics [and] women [as] hysterical hypochondriacs.” As a result, men’s pain is often taken more seriously, while women’s pain is perceived as an overreaction.

Gender bias is also demonstrated by the fact that one in 10 women suffer from endometriosis, but it takes an average of seven to eight years to receive a diagnosis. When it comes to heart disease, women are more likely to be told to lose weight than to be put on preventative therapy.

Many women face other biases as well: poverty, race, and relationship status. This bias, a UPenn study found, resulted in a 16-minute longer wait for pain medication in an emergency room.

In her article for The Atlantic, Ashley Fetters summarizes women’s health care experience clearly:

“[Women] follow an ominous three-act structure, in which a woman expresses concern about [an] issue; the doctor demurs; later, after either an obstacle course of doctor visits or a nightmare scenario coming to life, a physician at last acknowledges her pain was real and present the whole time ... Women get prescribed less pain medication than men after identical procedures (controlling for body size), are less likely to be admitted to hospitals and receive stress tests when they complain of chest pain, and are significantly more likely than men to be ‘undertreated’ for pain by doctors.”

Maternal and Infant Mortality Rate

No issue is more specific to women’s bodies than pregnancy. It is no secret that the maternal infant mortality rate in the U.S. is high. In fact, in the last 30 years, the U.S. is the only developed country whose rate has been rising steadily. Between 700 to 900 women each year die from pregnancy-related complications in the U.S., while around 5,000 suffer from life-threatening complications. A recent Centers for Disease Control study found that two-thirds of the deaths were preventable. As with other issues, race significantly affects the maternal mortality rate. Black women are three to four times more likely to die in childbirth than white women, regardless of education, income, or other socioeconomic factors. Rates are also higher for women in poverty or who live in rural areas.

In the last 30 years, the U.S. is the only developed country whose maternal mortality rate has been rising steadily.

The Commonwealth Fund’s study identifies a number of factors that influence high maternal and infant mortality rates, such as inadequate access to preventive check-ups during pregnancy, high rates of caesarean sections (a risky procedure that is not necessary for most women), lack of prenatal care, and increased rates of chronic conditions (such as obesity, diabetes, and heart disease). Other reasons provided by a recent CDC study include the fact that new mothers are older than they used to be and have more complex medical histories, confusion about how to recognize worrisome symptoms, and poor information about what medical issues may arise for the mother (not just the baby) when discharged. For women in poverty, additional factors include a lack of time off or access to any kind of maternity leave, lack of child care support, and lack of health insurance to follow up on any postpartum issues.

Other Health Care Issues

A thorough dive into women’s health care issues would go well beyond the scope of this series, which aims to introduce how social injustices particularly affect women. However, there are a few other areas that we can address briefly to round out this look into women’s experiences with health care:

• Women are more likely to suffer from common mental health issues such as depression and anxiety. They are more likely to be dismissed as hysterical or diagnosed, yet they are also overmedicated. A great piece by Sophia Swinford dives further into this topic.
• Women’s health care is often limited to reproductive services such as birth control and abortion. Within this sphere, women are treated as a monolith, with every symptom treated or question answered with one pill rather than an individual diagnosis. Fertility awareness provides more authentic health care to properly diagnose and treat women as individuals. Other FemCatholic articles more directly address reproductive justice and fertility awareness through a feminist lens.
• Not only are women affected more when it comes to beginning of life issues, but they are also more affected when it comes to physician-assisted suicide.
• “Period poverty” is a public health crisis that affects many girls and women not only personally but also in the important areas of education and work. About every 28 days, women begin their period. This routine aspect of women’s physiology and biology has long been a point of discrimination for women, from the laws against “unclean” women (i.e., menstruating women) to the pink tax on women’s hygiene products.

Until women’s bodies are considered normative rather than “atypical” or “abnormal,” there cannot be justice in the medical field for women. True justice and reform should mean devoting equal amounts of time and resources to learning how women’s bodies function, how they react to treatments, and how diseases manifest in them. The call to visit the sick is not just about caring for people who are ill at home; it also includes fighting for and creating health care that treats the sick at all levels.

As Catholics, we ought to be pro-life from womb to tomb; unfortunately, many women face obstacles to caring for themselves from the time that they are conceived. To be truly pro-life, we must demand changes in how women experience birth, how they are treated when they are elderly or terminally ill, and at every stage in between — all in a way that respects how their bodies were created.

As Catholics, we are called to build community with and advocate for the marginalized. There are several populations of people who may come to mind when we think of those who are marginalized: BIPOC communities (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color), women, the poor, the sick, the homeless, LGBT persons, the imprisoned, the immigrant. Catholic social teaching and Scripture outline how we ought to build community with persons from these populations.

This teaching is part of what helps us understand how someone can be both Catholic and feminist: Working toward just treatment for all people necessitates doing so for women. It is important to remember that women’s collective experiences are not homogenous, which motivates our advocacy for intersectional feminism. Our work toward just treatment for all persons ought to reflect this diversity within feminine experiences. Women from every marginalized group not only deserve a seat at the table, but they also should be the leaders we look to in order to fully understand the diverse challenges that women face.

One group of people that we often neglect in discussions of marginalization and inequality are people with disabilities. If we are to achieve truly intersectional feminism, we must include women with disabilities and women who care for people with disabilities. Over the coming months, we will dive into a series that addresses how disability advocacy is both Catholic and feminist. We will begin with vocabulary: common terms and pitfalls.

If we are to achieve truly intersectional feminism, we must include women with disabilities and women who care for people with disabilities.

Words for Disability

Why do I and other disability writers spend so much time clarifying terms? Because words are powerful! They can hurt people or make them feel loved and seen. It is important to use words thoughtfully and intentionally, especially in a society where it is so easy to broadcast and weaponize them.

As with any other topic, there are varying opinions about how we ought to discuss disability. For example, some don’t like the word “disabled” because it suggests a negative orientation toward living and ability (“You are dis-abled.”). They might use the phrase “differently-abled” instead. While this latter phrase is well-intentioned, it can also suggest that we’re all differently-abled and, therefore, that we all experience similar limitations when it comes to our differences — which is simply not true.

Some people prefer to use person-centered language, such as “person with a disability” or “person experiencing disability” rather than “disabled person” in order to emphasize humanity, rather than the characteristics that qualify humanity. A person’s level of need or ability does not constitute their whole identity! Person-centered language also allows for the possibility of these experiences being temporary; after all, a person may not always be homeless, disabled, or sick. That being said, some disabled persons do view their disability as an expression of part of their identity and prefer “disabled person.”

The most important thing is that you are engaging in conversation with the disabled person directly! It is always better to speak toward the person in question, even if a caregiver, accompanier, or family member is present. Doing so shows that you acknowledge the individuality and dignity of the person, even if it does not appear that he or she is verbal or conventionally communicative. Corrections and preferences are much more likely to be given in kind, with no offense taken, if you start from a place of respect.

Several words used to be common when describing people with disabilities but are less so today. Words or phrases such as “handicapped,” “impaired,”  “crippled,” and “special needs” have fallen out of popular use for a variety of reasons. The first three words call to mind physical disabilities and were popularized after the Vietnam War, when there was a surge of physically disabled post-war veterans. While some people still feel comfortable using them, others may consider them to be insulting. “Special needs” often refers to people with cognitive disabilities; some now see this phrase as infantilizing, while others are comfortable using it. For example, when I talk about my own brother, Matthew, who has two genetic disabilities, I sometimes use “special needs” when speaking with people who are unfamiliar with disability, because it can help them understand that his disabilities are not solely physical in nature.

The language we use to discuss disability most often depends on the preferences of the individuals who live with disability. As we can see, there is some room for different, well-intentioned decisions about the vocabulary we use. However, there is one word we should never use, whether or not we’re describing a person with a disability: “retard.” Our refusal or decision to use this word is, frankly, a matter of respecting human dignity.

The word “retard” was used to describe people with intellectual disabilities in the early 1900s. It has since become used colloquially to mean “stupid,” “unfair,” “slow,” “ridiculous,” “upsetting,” and so on. This term is no longer used in medical settings, because we have a fuller understanding of what cognitive disability is; it isn’t just being “slow” (which is what “retard” means in French). Unfortunately, some still use this word as slang. One simple way to be a disability advocate is to lovingly correct friends and family who use this word and remind them that it is offensive, because it equates being disabled with being the terms listed above.

Personally, I use “disabled persons” and “person with a disability” interchangeably. I prefer “persons” over “people” for the same reason the Church often uses “persons” in her documents: It highlights individual, personal dignity over the homogenous notion of “people.”

Disability and The Word

As Catholics, we believe that the most powerful words are the Word of God: Scripture. As such, our engagement with Scripture ought to shape how we perceive and treat members of marginalized communities. In the Gospels, we see Jesus heal people experiencing a variety of disabilities: blindness (Mark 8:22-26), deafness (Mark 7:31-37), hemorrhaging (Matthew 9:20-22), paralysis (Matthew 9:1-7), and more. This inclusion shows us that disability is not just a modern phenomenon, even if it is a modern term.

When we read the stories of Jesus’ healing miracles in Scripture, we should remember the people involved and accurately situate the stories within their historical context. During Jesus’ time, people with disabilities were viewed as “unclean” and were, therefore, shunned by society. Others could not touch or dine with them, and they were not welcome at religious services. Keeping this context in mind, we can see that Jesus’ engagement with persons with disabilities was a radical upheaval of social norms.

Jesus’ engagement with persons with disabilities was a radical upheaval of social norms.

Aside from healing their physical ailments, Jesus’ interaction with these persons — especially given His use of physical touch — is, itself, a form of healing. Jesus healed the aching wounds of an excluded person. It is also this relationship and His love that heal them.

Both forms of healing are important and, in fact, parallel the two foremost models of disability as understood in secular disability study: the medical model and the social model. The medical model defines disability as a primarily medical phenomenon. It says that disability is something that can be scientifically understood and, therefore, that solutions to the challenges of disability are medical in nature. The social model understands disability as a primarily social phenomenon. It asserts that the challenges of disability are the limitations in access, political protections, and community, and so the solution is to increase access, protections, and opportunities for genuine connection with others.

In the early 1900s, disability was largely viewed through the medical lens. With the rise of disability advocacy on behalf of physically disabled veterans after the Vietnam War, disability came to be seen through a more social lens. Today, disability scholars largely agree that disability is a combination of both the medical and the social models. It shouldn’t surprise us that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, provided us with a model that integrates both, long before explicit disability advocacy existed.

One of the most important passages in Scripture regarding disability is found in the Gospel of John. Jesus comes upon a man who was born blind. His disciples ask Him, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Christ responds, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him” (John 9:1-3). This passage demonstrates that disability is not a result of sin. Furthermore, it positions disabled persons as conduits of God’s goodness and power.

Not all interpretations of this passage are helpful, however. Some people without disabilities interpret this passage as meaning that the purpose of disability is to make others feel close to God. This interpretation can lead people to think that the reason for the existence of disabled persons is to “be inspiring.” But people do not exist to make us feel a certain way. Disability does not exist simply to teach those who don’t have a disability. We must remember that disabled persons are whole, unique persons with aspirations for their own lives.

Disability does not exist simply to teach those who don’t have a disability. We must remember that disabled persons are whole, unique persons with aspirations for their own lives.

Words Online

The notion that disability exists to inspire is described by a term you might see when involved in disability advocacy: “inspiration porn.” The phrase draws a parallel between the way pornography seeks ot make us feel good and how we’re made to feel when watching a video or applying a meaning to a person’s life or actions that we are not participating in. Simply put, the phrase “inspiration porn” highlights how videos and other media can exploit others, even if unintentionally. I personally use the term “inspirationalizing” instead of “inspiration porn,” but I mean the same thing: We don’t know the people in the video. We aren’t those people. We have never been in their particular situation. Using their life or experience for our own purpose offends their dignity, because it reduces them to how they make us feel.

For example: Have you ever seen or even shared a viral video on Facebook of a teen with autism being asked by his classmate to prom? Or of a baby with Down syndrome giggling, accompanied by a caption saying that abortion snuffs out the joy of seeing that smile? While these videos make us feel good and do work against the exclusion of people with disabilities, they can support the idea that the core of a person’s worth is the joy they bring others. We should never base a person’s right to love, life, and acceptance on the way they make us feel. Furthermore, these types of videos and photographs are often used to propagate political messages and can treat a human person as a prop.

Using Words Thoughtfully

I have three suggestions for how we, as Catholic feminists, can begin including persons with disabilities in our advocacy:

• When sharing a story or video, make sure the featured disabled person consented to its sharing.
• Work in our own lives to engage with disabled persons and teach our children about disability.
• Use language that emphasizes human dignity, rather than a political or inspirational message.

God’s examples of healing in Scripture can invite us to understand the lived, real experiences of disabled persons in our own community. Accepting this invitation, coupled with using thoughtful vocabulary, will make all the difference to the persons who are listening in our pews and reading our words.

God’s examples of healing in Scripture can invite us to understand the lived, real experiences of disabled persons in our own community.

Recommendations for Further Reading

If you want to learn more about language, Scripture, and the history of disability advocacy, I recommend A Healing Homiletic by Kathy Black and Copious Hosting by Jennie Weiss Block.

As we breathe a sigh of relief to have left 2020 behind, we know that neither a new president nor a COVID-19 vaccine will heal the divisions that split across our country over the past year. Even before the horrific events in D.C. and the predictable fallout — disagreement over basic facts, finger-pointing, social media flare-ups — that ensued, I knew that I wasn’t alone in discovering the rifts that lay dormant in many of my relationships.

Just before Christmas, I reached out to an old friend in a convent: Sr. Anna Rose Ciarrone, TOR. In the course of our friendship since college, she has remained one of the most insightful, fair, and compassionate people I know. Our conversation quickly became vulnerable as we discussed how the wounds of 2020 — loneliness, suspicion, and tribalism, to start with — have manifested themselves in our very different lives and crept into our own Catholic communities. (As it turns out, not even semi-cloistered religious sisters can escape political discord — something I find strangely hopeful, as a reminder that we can never outrun the beautiful, challenging call to community.)

We lamented our frustrations and pain at seeing a country and Church divided, especially among women, who, despite falling into the same partisan camps as others, can still find ourselves intimately knit together through the sharing of events like childbirth, miscarriages, marital struggles, and health crises. Sr. Anna Rose and I kept coming back to the idea of the feminine genius, the term coined by St. John Paul II to describe woman’s unique, God-given gifts that enliven the world.

Are there ways in which women are naturally suited to bring sorely-needed healing?

How can we feel capable of that work when we’re dealing with our own wounds?

Why has it felt so much harder to love someone I disagree with than it has in previous years?

Below are five highlights from our conversation — but first, I’d like to begin with this caveat from Sr. Anna Rose: Far from making sweeping generalizations about one gender, there are as many ways for the feminine genius to manifest itself as there are women.

“Wherever you are, do it with the femininity the Lord’s given to you,” she said. There are many places and means to bring healing.

1. Your Femininity Is a Strength in These Times. Let It Flourish.

“It’s always hard to speak in generalizations, but I think there is something built into us [as women], the way the Lord made us with a particular capacity to be attentive to the other person — an awareness to not just things and facts but other persons,” Sr. Anna Rose said. “And where there’s so much brokenness, it’s unsurprising that women would be feeling that.”

Even a simple gesture of companionship — “just by our presence, to communicate with another that it’s good you exist, and I’m with you” — can resonate in a time of intense isolation and loneliness.

Even a simple gesture of companionship can resonate in a time of intense isolation and loneliness.

2. Cling to Christ, Especially When Wounds Come From Within His Church.

“There are wounds in all of us, and I think we’re in a place where our wounds are brushing up against one another more,” Sr. Anna Rose said, carefully reflecting on the fraught atmosphere not just in the wider culture but also in our parishes, families, and intimate circles. “We’re in a time that is very difficult, and sometimes, those wounds get exacerbated more, and it hurts more when those wounds come from people and institutions we instinctively think we should trust.”

We talked about how the past year’s tensions seemed to go deeper than basic political disagreements. Whether stemming from the wildly disparate responses to COVID-19, the agonizing turmoil over racial injustice, or the brutal election on top of it all, both measured debates and internet screeds plunged down to more fundamental and, frankly, terrifying questions: Whose way of life is worth preserving? Whom can I trust for basic information? Who’s in my way? Whom should I be afraid of?

Even — or especially — in Catholic circles, realizing, “I thought we all kind of agreed on a basic level about some things, but maybe we don’t” can be shaking, Sr. Anna Rose said. But “ultimately, who was I leaning on in the first place? If [it] wasn’t Christ, I’m going to start feeling shaky really fast.”

“Who was I leaning on in the first place? If [it] wasn’t Christ, I’m going to start feeling shaky really fast.”

What’s the way out? “It’s only by looking to Christ, and looking at how He’s loving me and working in me, that I have the courage to face my wounds and the wounds of others, however they’re interacting on any given day.”

He is our hope of restoration.

3. Look at Your Brother or Sister as a Whole Person, Not as a Representative of an Ideology.

We’ve quickly come to identify people based on one “part” — a supporter of this candidate or an example of the reasons behind the pandemic’s stress. Sr. Anna Rose said, “We reduce people to ideology, and yet the feminine genius works against that in its nature, because [women] have the capacity to see people deeper than that.”

“We reduce people to ideology, and yet the feminine genius works against that in its nature, because [women] have the capacity to see people deeper than that.”

In his recent encyclical, Fratelli tutti, Pope Francis uses the parable of the Good Samaritan to expand our notion of who our neighbors are: “[Jesus] asks us not to decide who is close enough to be our neighbour, but rather that we ourselves become neighbours to all” (80).

Drawing from that statement, Sr. Anna Rose posed a challenge: “Can I step back from the ideologies I hold as a shield, and can I see you? That requires quite a bit of vulnerability and the humility to not choose who deserves mercy or deserves to be listened to.”

If the new year comes with a post-2020 examination of conscience, perhaps this restored vision of the whole human person should be at its heart: How do we encounter others? Is our approach human at its core?

4. Don’t Believe the Lie That Your Efforts as a Woman Don’t Matter.

Sr. Anna Rose confessed that early in her life with her religious community, she wrestled with the question of whether her work was enough. The sisters’ main apostolates are providing campus ministry to college students and ministering among the poor. She grew to find beauty in its simplicity, though — “We do a whole lot of being with” — and the slow litany of “one meal, one clothing assist, one conversation at a time.”

“We’re not necessarily changing social structures, we’re not doing ‘big things,’ but we’re walking with a college woman and helping her grow closer to the Lord in prayer, or listening to students say, ‘I’ve never told anyone this, but I feel I can trust you,’” she said. “It’s a very feminine way of healing, because it’s focused on the person — it’s that capacity to see, to welcome, to nurture.”

Still, it’s easy to succumb to despair (“That person is going to go back and use again, drink again”) and believe the lie that our efforts are futile. Don’t fall for it. Sr. Anna Rose said, “I’m part of the body of Christ, and therefore, every single little thing I do matters. Every single time I choose love and choose forgiveness and choose mercy, it’s bringing Christ to life more fully … It’s making that act of faith that Christ is there. I can’t think of any other place to start to heal, because everything else will be too big or impractical.”

“Every single time I choose love and choose forgiveness and choose mercy, it’s bringing Christ to life more fully.”

5. You Need to Receive Mercy in Order to Bring Mercy to the World.

Sr. Anna Rose’s community, the Franciscan Sisters TOR of Penance of the Sorrowful Mother, looks to the image of crucified love and mercy as its main charism — the very moment of Jesus’ broken body on the Cross, pouring healing out to the people underneath.

“Healing for each person, each woman, starts there,” she said. “Can I receive His mercy in myself and hear Him say it’s good that I exist?”

She said she was recently struck by how the sheer ugliness of that moment — Christ’s open wounds and ravaged body — is the pathway for our own healing, especially when we feel too damaged to ask for it. Meditating on those wounds “can be a prayer, even if it doesn’t feel very pious or pretty,” she said. “On the Cross, He looks like me, He’s wounded and messy.”

“It’s so easy to look at the problems in the people around us, but can I look at myself and accept the fact that I need healing?” Sr. Anna Rose said. “Lay that bare before the Lord and go from there. And then, I can more authentically show the Face of Mercy to my sisters.”

That mercy has inherently feminine characteristics, something that’s been recognized for thousands of years. It comes from the Hebrew root rehem, or womb, and in the Old Testament, it’s the word used to describe the Lord’s maternal tenderness and patience toward His people. In his writings on mercy, Pope Francis consistently gives it the actions of a nurse or mother: “mercy caresses,” “mercy binds the wound,” “mercy leans down to lift up the afflicted.” By its very nature, the work of incarnating mercy to a broken world lends itself to the feminine genius.

Mercy has inherently feminine characteristics, something that’s been recognized for thousands of years.

And it starts at the Cross, with a receptive heart open to her own healing.

“That’s where it needs to begin,” Sr. Anna Rose said. “And hopefully, the Lord will use that so I can be an agent of healing.”

This January, the beginning of a new year and the month of the March for Life, is a fitting time to meet new organizations that help us to connect with secular feminists. I love advocating for the dignity of the preborn on my secular university campus, but it can be challenging to find feminist groups that are also enthusiastically pro-life. Whether or not we attend the March for Life this year, connecting with our secular, fellow pro-life feminists is a great way to advocate for women and unborn children.Building bridges with secular feminists requires us to translate Catholic teaching about the value of life into secular terms that anyone can understand, regardless of faith background. The organizations listed below uphold the dignity of life that the Church is committed to, while maintaining a secular approach in their work. They can teach us how to speak about pro-life feminism using non-religious language. Additionally, all of the groups listed here are nonpartisan, womb-to-tomb advocacy organizations. Their whole life approach reflects the consistent life ethic that lies at the heart of Catholic social teaching.

These organizations' whole life approach reflects the consistent life ethic that lies at the heart of Catholic social teaching.

Feminists for Life of America and Women Deserve Better

Feminists for Life of America was founded in 1972 (before Roe vs. Wade) to support women during and after their pregnancies. The organization hopes to continue the work of the first-wave feminists, all of whom were pro-life, and much of its research strives to recover that original vision of feminism. In its advocacy work, Feminists for Life alleviates the feminization of poverty and helps women receive child support. One of its most impressive victories is creating better options for infant and child care, especially for student mothers. Feminists for Life has also championed laws that punish sexual and domestic violence, as well as sex trafficking and pornography. You can read more about its accomplishments and advocacy here.

In 2017, Feminists for Life launched a partner organization called Women Deserve Better to provide practical and educational resources for women and mothers. Women Deserve Better strives to educate on issues specifically related to the feminization of poverty.

Pro-Black Pro-Life

Pro-Black Pro-Life supports and empowers Black women to choose life. Cherilyn Holloway, the founder, offers training courses that equip Black leaders to speak up for their communities. Furthermore, she creates videos on her YouTube channel to educate others on the intersection of pro-life feminism and anti-racism.

Cherilyn Holloway creates videos on her YouTube channel to educate others on the intersection of pro-life feminism and anti-racism.

Rehumanize International

Aimee Murphy, the founder of Rehumanize International, is a Catholic who created a secular organization to build bridges with people of all religious backgrounds — or none. She resigned from her position on Dec. 31 and handed over the leadership to Herb Geraghty, who is an atheist.

‍Rehumanize International promotes a consistent life ethic. Among its many projects, it provides educational resources about the dignity of the preborn and the importance of pro-life feminism. The organization works toward abortion abolition and formulated an action plan for how the law should deal with doctors performing illegal abortions if abortion were to become illegal. As a solution, Rehumanize International subscribes to the restorative justice model, which aims to heal broken relationships, rather than simply punish those who have caused harm. You can read more about its anti-abortion stance here. The organization also provides education on how restorative justice provides a constructive context for discussions about illegal abortion and pro-life feminism.

The restorative justice model aims to heal broken relationships, rather than simply punish those who have caused harm.

New Wave Feminists and Feministas de la Nueva Ola

New Wave Feminists advocates for the preborn and their mothers. It is anti-abortion and, like Feminists for Life of America, supports access to better resources for mothers. This year, it has focused on helping migrant women in Juarez, Mexico receive better maternal health care and heal emotionally from the trauma of sexual assault. If you want to support New Wave Feminists’ efforts in Juarez, you can learn more here.

‍Feministas de la Nueva Ola has its own website and blog, with all resources available in Spanish.

Abide Women’s Health Services

Abide Women’s Health Services provides affordable pregnancy and postpartum care to women in the low-income communities that face the worst maternal mortality rates. Cessily R. Smith, the founder, promotes anti-racism and redemptive justice in her medical practice. Since poor infant and maternal mortality rates most adversely affect women of color, she has created an alternative to the prevailing health care model that has failed Black women. Abide’s medical practice is located in Dallas, Texas, and it hopes to expand to more locations. You can learn more about its mission here.

Since poor infant and maternal mortality rates most adversely affect women of color, Abide has created an alternative to the prevailing health care model that has failed Black women.

Let Them Live

Let Them Live alleviates the financial hardship that drives women to view abortion as their only option. When a woman reaches out asking for monetary assistance, it fundraises to pay all of her expenses. Many of its fundraisers aim to raise $30,000 to $40,000 so that the woman’s entire nine-month pregnancy comes at no cost to her, paying for prenatal health care, baby clothing, hospital expenses, utilities, groceries, rent, car insurance, etc. Let Them Live sends donors updates on the woman’s pregnancy, even including a photo of her baby.Let Them Live also raises money for pregnant women, some with other children as well, to escape domestic violence. In many cases, these women are entirely financially dependent on their abusive husband. Let Them Live raises money to pay all of a woman’s expenses for one year while she finds a job and becomes independent.In a similar vein, Let Them Live works to protect women from coerced abortion. An abusive husband or boyfriend might use threatening words or physical violence to force a woman into an abortion against her will; Let Them Live helps the woman escape from her abuser and bring her pregnancy to term, safe from violence and coercion.

Secular Pro-Life

Secular Pro-Life provides excellent scientific and philosophical resources to equip others to speak up for life. Its website offers information on its anti-abortion stance as well as a blog.

While some of Secular Pro-Life’s work aligns with Catholic teaching, it supports contraception as a way to prevent unplanned pregnancy and abortion. However, it presents the disadvantages and harmful medical side effects of contraception to help spread awareness, and it does not support abortifacient contraceptives. You can learn more about Secular Pro-Life’s stance on contraception here.

Our pro-life work as Catholics can be even more effective when we partner with our fellow pro-life feminists, including those in secular organizations. As Catholics, we believe that God has written the natural law on all human consciences, which means that secular feminists can (and do) also understand the importance of upholding human dignity from womb to tomb. This truth should empower us to connect with our secular friends and share our passion for pro-life feminism.

As Catholics, we believe that God has written the natural law on all human consciences, which means that secular feminists can (and do) also understand the importance of upholding human dignity from womb to tomb.

What do you do when something that's supposed to be unitive becomes divisive? I found myself asking this question when I was unexpectedly diagnosed with primary vaginismus in the weeks following my wedding. Vaginismus is a medical condition where the muscles of the vagina clench and allow nothing to penetrate. Nothing — not tampons, my husband, or even those long, medical q-tips used for pap smears. And not only does vaginismus prevent penetration, but it also causes searing pain with any attempt. Over the last five and a half years, I have struggled to find a path toward healing. Out of ignorance, my husband and I have done many things that made my path longer and more difficult. I now have long-established sexual trauma from not stopping when things became painful. So, I have a message for all of you women out there: Sex is never supposed to be painful.

Sex Is Never Supposed to Be Painful

There, I said it. And I will say it again, because it can't be said often enough. Sex is never supposed to be painful. I only wish someone had thought to tell me this before I got married. So, I’m telling you now:

If sex is painful, stop. Immediately.

Don’t try to push through. Don’t try and just "offer it up" or white knuckle through. Don’t expect things to get better on their own. If you don’t know why sex is painful, find a doctor and tell them about your pain. If they don’t take you seriously, find another doctor. It’s worth it, because not only your well-being but the well-being of your marriage is on the line.

My husband and I have often talked about sharing our story and we decided that vulnerability is part of our path toward healing. To that end, I would like to share with you his experience as well as mine, because they are both important. My vaginismus has been just as much of a cross for him as it has been for me.

My Experience with Vaginismus

Five years ago, we were young, inexperienced virgins on our wedding night, and we couldn’t wait to get married. We had to postpone our wedding for a year and it was so hard to wait! We were looking forward to finally being one in a physical sense, as we already were in an emotional sense. I had taken classes and attended talks that showed me the beauty of giving myself completely to another and I was so ready to give myself to my husband. But I couldn’t.

Trying to achieve physical unity in sex proved impossible on our own. My entire world came crashing down and I felt betrayed by the Church, by my husband, and by my own body. These feelings of betrayal deepened and grew the longer I went without seeking professional medical help. I talked to priests in the confessional, trying to find help, but none of them knew what to say. I felt so very alone.

Was my case really so rare that even priests, who have heard thousands of confessions, had never heard of it? Was I such an outlier that understanding how Church teaching applies to my situation was something not only I, but priests, couldn’t do? Why was the blessing from my wedding Mass proving to be a lie?

I confided in friends and sought information on the internet, but I found very little, which only increased my feeling of being alone. Gradually, however, by opening up to friends about my suffering, I discovered that several women I knew also struggled with vaginismus. One of them had even written about her own story of pain and healing. Unfortunately, I didn’t have $10,000 or two weeks to spend on a special program in New York. By that time, I had somehow conceived and birthed a child. I couldn’t abandon her to take care of my sex life!

But this wasn’t just about my sex life — it was about the life of my marriage.

Two years into our marriage, we hit rock bottom. I had reached the point where I associated all physical affection with pain. I couldn’t bear to be touched by my husband. I visibly cringed if he did so much as place a hand on my arm. This response, in turn, made him feel unloved, unwanted, and rejected. His primary love language is physical touch, and all he desired and needed was to be physically wanted, to be one with me — but I couldn’t. I wanted to want him. I wanted to give him what he needed. But I just couldn’t. Instead, I curled up into a ball of pain and cringed both physically and emotionally whenever I thought of being touched.

The Struggle to Find Healing

I finally sought the help of a professional trauma therapist, which was the turning point.‍

I have done EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) to work through my sexual trauma PTSD.

I have done pelvic floor physical therapy, used dilators, and done exercises designed to stretch and relax the vaginal muscles.

I have spent hours working through subconscious emotional hang-ups, most of which were a result of the purity culture of my youth.

I have studied Church documents, saints' writings, and secular sex therapy books, trying to make some sense of why vaginismus happened to me.

And I have been slowly healing and getting closer to finding a way for sex to be an act of unity — instead of a source of division — in my marriage.

We Need More Resources for Catholic Women Who Suffer from Sexual Dysfunction

As I healed enough to speak publicly about my experience with vaginismus, I realized just how much I am not alone in this suffering. There are so many women out there who also suffer silently from sexual dysfunction or painful sex. Some are victims of purity culture, some victims of sexual abuse, and some victims of society’s misguided idea that bad sex for women is bad in the same way as it is for men.

I think that we owe it to ourselves and to other women suffering like us to tell our stories. The journey becomes a bit easier when we know we aren’t traveling alone. Hopefully, the things we found that worked for us will help another woman avoid years of pain, sorrow, and trauma.

What we really need, though, is a ministry in the Catholic Church that helps married women with sexual and intimacy problems.

Why are there so many ministries in the Church that help women who struggle with NFP, but none that help married women who struggle with sexual dysfunction?

Why are there no books written by Catholic sex therapists that help us understand that massaging the vagina is not always masturbation? Or that it is permitting when done for therapy, even outside of sex with your spouse?

Why doesn’t the Church tell us directly that the woman’s orgasm is actually necessary for sex to be truly unitive?

When will we understand and prioritize sexual health for married women in ways that aren’t only related to fertility?

Hopefully we, as a Church, will bring some good out of this suffering by using it to alleviate the suffering of others. We can do better for Catholic women. We can do better for ourselves.

Want to Learn More?

Take a deeper dive with our course on pelvic floor pain, where Dr. Emily Jurschak, Pelvic Floor PT, teaches you about the role of the pelvic floor, the factors that contribute to pelvic pain, and her approach to treatment and healing.