The Tragedy of Eve

In my eyes, no story slashes through my heart more than that of Eve.

She has become the mother of every living person on Earth - and of everyone buried beneath the surface - but she has never had the pleasure of having a mother herself. Eve lived forced to be an eternal daughter. Not once could she search out the comfort of a maternal figure, to lay her head in the woman’s lap, consoled when her body changed and morphed into something new. There was no other woman on Earth for her to seek solace from, to talk of the mysteries that men do not understand because they have not been pained by them.

But worst of all, even more awful than her loneliness and despair is how she has been painted through history, through the story of the Bible, through every myth and legend that has stemmed from Abrahamic roots. Donned original sin, the original sinner. Had it not been for her actions, humanity would have forever lived in paradise.

How can any person blame her though? She was human, as we are, her biggest sin was being a soul stuck in flesh. Everyone lives with curiosity, and worse so with the ability to be manipulated. When life had been nothing but pleasure and goodness, how can any of us blame her for not knowing what would happen.

I mourn her and the way she has been dragged through history, the way that all women have been sullied because of her actions. I remember she was human - as so many others have stripped from her - and therefore made mistakes as humans do today. I see her in serpents and fruits, but also in lilies and crisp summer days. I want to remember her not as a sinner, but as a woman that was worth so much more.