PJ: When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?
MM: In elementary school. First or second grade. Those years blend together because I had the same teacher. We had a story writing assignment and I loved it. That was that.
PJ: We know you write a blog and articles. Do you write any fiction?
MM: I started out writing fiction. It was my focus in college. I have a few stories on the back burner, but right now I’ve been focusing on non-fiction.
PJ: How about poetry?
MM: Not as a rule. That’s something you really have to be inspired for. The last poetry I wrote was for a boyfriend. Sometimes I think he got my best stuff and my poetry writing days are over.
PJ: You wrote your boyfriend poetry? You don’t strike me as a romantic.
MM: I’m not interested in romance in the abstract, but I’m very romantic when I’m in a relationship.
PJ: How many times have you been in love?
MM: I’ve never been in love. I don’t like that terminology. To “fall in love” suggests a lack of control that I don’t believe in. Every person I’ve loved, I made a conscious decision to love.
PJ: That’s not very romantic.
MM: I guess not in the superficial idea that our society has of romance. I think one of the worst songs ever is “I can’t help falling in love with you.” The idea that love is this thing that “happens” to you is what leads to dissatisfaction in relationships. It leads to our high divorce rate. Some guy being madly, helplessly “in love” with me isn’t a good thing. Because he can just as easily fall out of love as soon as he sees me after a workout at the gym or smells me a couple hours after I’ve had jalapeno chips. So he moves on to a bustier, younger version of me that gets his pants tight. That’s not love; it’s lust. Our society has those two super mixed up. What’s romantic to me are the marriages I’ve observed in my family. My parents and each of my brothers and their wives have solid, long lasting marriages that are built on mutual respect and admiration. Of course there’s an element of physical attraction there. I’m not saying that’s dispensable. But they’re not feeling warm fuzzies all the time that compel them to gravitate to each other. They’re choosing to love; they’re choosing to commit, even when they don’t feel particularly warm towards the other person.
PJ: But didn’t you feel what I guess you would call “lust” when you met the people you dated?
MM: Honestly, no. Each of the people I’ve dated were people I initially had no designs on. I was not attracted to any of them when I first met them. The “lust” always followed the love. Maybe that’s weird. But I’m glad I function that way.
PJ: Let’s say a guy wanted to get poetry from you. What would he have to do?
MM: Deserve it.
PJ: Elaborate. What did your ex do to deserve it?
MM: He was really supportive, and I could say anything to him. I could tell him when I was angry or depressed. The very nature of Peace Corps life meant that I could tell him any ailments I had. He knew if I had diarrhea, and it wasn’t embarrassing. I could cry without trying to rein it in. There was no pretense. He treated me really well and was always honest and open with me.
PJ: What makes a good date? What’s the most memorable date you’ve been on?
MM: The most memorable was giving blood in Cambodia. I was on vacation visiting my boyfriend at the time, who lived in Phnom Penh. He met me in Siem Riep and we did the Angkor stuff for a few days and I talked him into staying an extra day because I wanted to see the floating villages by Tonle Sap Lake. We saw that in the morning and had the afternoon to kill before catching the overnight train to Sihanoukville. So we wandered around the bazaars in Siem Riep and he mentioned wanting to give blood. At first I was like, ‘errr.’ But he assured me it was safe because of all the NGOs that are in Cambodia. So we walked to the hospital and gave blood. Now I’m the only kid on my block who has a T-shirt in Khmer that advocates giving blood. As far as a good date, pretty much anything can be fun if you’re with the right person.
PJ: You’ve done a lot of crazy stuff. Do you feel like you have something to prove?
MM: That’s probably part of the equation, being the youngest and only girl among a litter of overachievers, coming from a small town, coming from a family with no pedigree. There’s definitely a slice of proving I can be just as good as a rich kid from New York whose godparents are in the Forbes 100 or what have you. But I think a bigger part of my motivation for “crazy” is just this innate curiosity about the world and an understanding of how short life is. I think life was meant to be really lived, not zombie-walked through. I really do believe that the abundant life Christ talks about starts on earth, not in the afterlife.
PJ: What’s the scariest thing you’ve done?
MM: The scariest thing I’ve done or the scariest thing that’s happened to me?
PJ: Both.
MM: To me, the scariest thing I’ve done, and you’re going to laugh at this, is ask a guy out. I think people look at the things I’ve done and would probably say public speaking or skydiving or something like that was scariest. But in terms of what freaks me out and makes me physically shaky, it’s asking guys out. I’m shy.
The scariest thing that’s happened to me is one night when I was in Turkmenistan, I woke up and was paralyzed. I literally could not move. I couldn’t even cry out for help. That lasted for probably only a couple minutes, but of course it felt much longer. That was one of many ways stress manifested itself in my body while I was over there. It was terrifying. I thought I was going to die.
PJ: It’s been more than a year since you’ve been back from Turkmenistan. Are you settled back into life in the U.S.?
MM: For the most part. But there are definitely moments when I have a longing for Turkmenistan. There are people that I miss a great deal. And I’m forever changed by the experience so there are things that I say or do now in the States that are ultimately a result of my past there. There was a couple that emerged from my group and got married when they came back, and I envy them having a built in comrade who understands that part of their lives. It was an entirely different beast, being a T-18 in Tstan. Volunteers from other countries of service or even from previous years in Tstan don’t fully get it, let alone non-vols.
PJ: You’re a Christian. I think some people find it surprising that you’re a “born again.” Do you find that people are surprised when they learn you’re a Christian?
MM: Sometimes. There are definitely people in my life for whom I’m a novelty. Their past experiences or their media-based assumptions cause them to view Christians in one particular way. And it’s just not accurate. I say, “you haven’t been hanging out with the right Christians.” They seriously expect Jerry Falwell or something and it never occurs to them that they wouldn’t make that leap for other groups.
PJ: Does it bother you when people buy into that stereotype or do you just laugh?
MM: Everyone hates to be stereotyped. What bothers me the most is this sense of obligation I feel to set people straight. Like whenever I’m in a university setting, it seems I will inevitably be confronted with Christianity bashing and I feel put on the defensive. In the Peace Corps I was once put through an entire litany of questions about my beliefs from other volunteers, and while they weren’t being intentionally hostile, it felt hostile. The worst is when someone is surprised because you’re smart and they essentially say as much. Yes, I’m wicked smart and I believe Jesus is the Christ; the two aren’t mutually exclusive. It’s frustrating that our society fosters that idea.
PJ: Do you get flak from other Christians for some of your views?
MM: I’m not sure I’d use the word ‘flak.’ Within any group, whether it’s political, religious, what have you, there are going to be disagreements. I’m really thankful that for the most part, my fellow believers manage to disagree civilly. Now, when you get to people who don’t know me personally, that’s a different story. There’s a lot of vitriol on the web. I’ve been unfriended on Facebook by a couple people. But I’ve also made friends via Facebook fracases.
PJ: Really? Tell me about that.
MM: There was a “Christian” page that posted a joke I found to be in terribly bad taste. It was disrespectful of both the President and the Pope, and I felt it was a bad witness. I said as much in a very simple, non-inflammatory way and they banned me from the page. I saw that another woman had been banned from the page (the page was gloating about it) so I messaged her and said, “Hey I see you got banned. I’m assuming it was over this joke. I got banned too. Friend me if you want.” So now we’re FB friends.
PJ: You’re super vocal about your feminism, and you’ve been pretty clear that your faith is the source of your feminism, which is something some people might struggle with.
MM: Because they misunderstand what the term ‘feminist’ means. They’ve bought into the lie that equates it with misandry and abortion rights and not shaving your pits. While there are feminists who do fit that stereotype, it is a stereotype and many feminists don’t fit it. To me feminism is simply about fighting for equal treatment and respect of women. And we still have a long way to go.
PJ: There have been a few posts in the past that have alluded to “dark nights of the soul.” In fact, I think I remember one was actually titled “Dark Night of the Soul.” Can you talk a little about the valleys in your faith walk?
MM: Well, as you said, I have talked about it. I feel like I’m pretty transparent about that because it’s something I don’t think people talk about enough. There’s this myth of perpetual joy. Like you’ll always feel warm and happy after you become a Christian. Especially with our modern obsession with putting a positive spin on everything. Our online selves are the polished versions of us, etc. So we have unrealistic expectations of our faith walk. There’s this idea that if you have doubts or feel angry then you’re a bad Christian. And it’s just not true. It’s important for people to understand that they will have doubts and that’s okay. Valleys are not a fun place to be in, but they’re inevitable, and they’re ultimately good for you. The valleys separate the wheat from the chaff, so to speak. It’s always been a test of discipline for me. Even though I doubt, I continue to obey. And God honors that.
PJ: When do you feel closest to God?
MM: When I’m completely alone. Not just physically alone, but also emotionally alone. And often in nature. One time that comes to mind is when I was student teaching in Australia and felt very alone there as the one member of the group who didn’t drink. One weekend we went to an island and that Sunday morning, I did church on the beach by myself. I watched the sunrise and sang a couple hymns and just hung out with God. Another time that comes to mind is the spring break of my first year teaching in Nevada. I drove to the Grand Canyon solo. I also felt very alone emotionally because of things that were going on with a co-worker/former friend. The car trip and hiking in the Canyon were a chance to really talk with God and marvel at his creation.
PJ: Let’s wrap this up with something light. What’s on your Christmas list?
MM: What I most want for Christmas is intangible. I’ve been praying about it, not specifically for Christmas, but you know. As far as actual things, I would like a light therapy box. I think I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, so it’d be good to see if light therapy helped. A gift certificate to Barnes and Noble, a subscription to mental_floss magazine. Nothing too fancy, really. The fun of Christmas is the atmosphere more than anything else.
Peter Jones is a world traveler who annoyed Maresha by not including an Oxford comma in the last sentence of his introduction.