(no subject)

[sciatrix]

one of the great things about digging into a story about a Catholic character is that I get to ask all my culturally Catholic friends shit like "what saint did you pick for Confirmation" and get answers back ranging from "uh, I didn't bother getting Confirmed: gross" all the way up to "oh yeah I had two saints: Joan of Arc, and of course John Chrysotom."

Most of my friends aren't currently practicing, of course, and I'm certainly not, but at the same time, it's--comfortingly familiar, let us say. It's a comfortable discomfort.

And there's the vicious glee from knowing that teenage me totally picked one of the queer saints purely by accident. That's pretty good, too.

Comments

[zenolalia]

I was never catholic, though my father converted before I was born (I think he's still to this day disappointed that I didn't join him, but one of my brothers did so there's that). But there is always something comforting about recognizing the small trappings of your childhood or your family in unexpected places.

A reminder that you've been alive and existing, and other things exist too, which I think is easy to forget sometimes.

[sciatrix]

Exactly. It's important, sometimes, feeling like you have a connection to where you come from and where you're going--especially if you, like me, are disconnected to that where-did-I-come-from aspect of things.