For a long time I’ve thought about Her, about Eve, about the apple and the serpent. Perhaps they shouldn’t tell this story to little girls, as I was when I first heard it. They shouldn’t say that Eve was tempted and that Eve erred. They shouldn’t say to us, “oh, you had everything but you had to have the apple, too.” It makes us sound greedy, impulsive, selfish.
That reputation stuck, even when I finally (steep learning curve) understood that the serpent was sexual desire and the apple, bliss.
Who in God’s name wouldn’t grab for that, garden or no?
We, gals, were made to feel shameful about it, about wanting it, enjoying it, craving, yearning, making some biblical-level poor choices to get it. Worse, while it made us feel ashamed, it also made us want it more.
Women who entertain a serpent have been called all kinds of nasty names and epithets and disastrous outcomes have been soundly predicted.
But those outcomes don’t always follow. Sometimes the sex is so good that for a brief couple of moments nothing else in this complicated world can even take focus. Sometimes the apple is mushy and dull and he wants more of a relationship than Eve can handle. Sometimes Eve wants more and the serpent is off to offer his apples elsewhere.
Even when it ends badly and feelings are hurt, there is still something inside that tells you that you were ready to leave that sunlit, safe, solitary garden long before the apple ever appeared or you might not have been so easily swayed.