From: "Kilt Thief" (KiltThief@cox.net)
To: obiwan@ghosts.org
Subject: Re: Bloody Mary, Veronica, and the Scarlet Woman
Date: Monday, March 01, 2004 3:29 AM
When I was very young, I heard of the legend of Bloody Mary. I asked my mother about it, and she told me this version:
Mary Tudor, Queen of England, had several miscarriages, and suffered the pain of the bereaved mother. She still, however, wishes to be reunited with her dead children. If you stand in a darkened room, in front of a mirror, and repeat "Bloody Mary, I have your children" five times (five being the number of her dead children), she will come out of the mirror to attack you, in revenge for teasing her.
My mother, with a slight smile, explained to me that it was just a story, and that if I wished to try it, I shouldn't allow myself to be too disappointed. So, of course, I tried it. And nothing happened. I came to the somewhat regretful conclusion that the story must be entirely fake. It didn't even occur to me that I wasn't doing it right - after all, at that age, I knew with all certainty that my mother was the original fountain of all wisdom and knowledge. (Oh, ok, I still believe she was.) I was prepubescent at the time. During my teen years, I attempted the experiment more than once, with a variety of giggling, anxious friends. Female friends, always. I have no idea if Mary Tudor did suffer miscarriages, and if she did, was it only five. It wasn't an important detail at the time.
Many years later, as a grown woman, two 13 year old girls came to me with the story of Bloody Mary, asking me what it was all about, and if I'd ever done it. I told them what my mother had told me and that it hadn't worked; they told me the version they'd heard. Their story went along the lines of "Polly heard it from Megan who heard that her cousin tried it and something bad happened to her, but Megan's mom wouldn't tell her what." They wanted to know every detail of my own attempt, so instead of explaining it over again, I volunteered to try it with them. We stood in my bathroom with the lights turned off and facing the over-sized mirror - I was elected spokeswoman by default, as the two girls immediately tried to make themselves disappear behind me. Trying not to laugh, I dramatically intoned "Bloody Mary, I have your children" five times, waited a heartbeat - and in an age-old instinct, spread my arms out in front of the girls to make of myself the target of any repercussions, at the same time experiencing a deep and momentary longing that I had never done such a stupid thing. After a few moments of nervous tremblings and giggling bravado, the two girls regretfully concluded that I must have been right - nothing would ever happen and the story must be false. I have no idea if either of them ever tried the experiment again, with other girls.
After reading Alejandro Gonzalez' article in your website, I remembered these instances from my own experience and it struck me as odd that both times, relief and regret were the girls' dominant responses. Shouldn't it be odd that, despite the fact that harm might come of such a reckless taunting of fate, one might feel regret that nothing happened, even disappointment? It seems almost psychotic to me.
I, personally, feel that it has nothing at all to do with menstruation, or sex, or the loss of innocence in the passage to womanhood. It might, however, be a rite of passage. It seems true, that I cannot recall any males who have spoken of trying the "Bloody Mary" test. Yet I know many boys who were once upon a time, dared to sleep overnight in the local haunted house, or dared to ride their bicycle through the graveyard at night, or otherwise dared to a variety of stupid stunts designed to test their manhood. To answer Freud, if sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, then sometimes a dare is just a dare.
Mr. Gonzalez wrote, "If you ask yourself if it is true, you'll say it's not. Yet, if you have to do the test, you'll find one or another excuse, you'll persuade yourself it's ridiculous or nonsense, and you'll give up. And if you finally do, you'll see you have to overcome a strong resistance inside yourself, and your heart will beat fast, though nothing will happen outside. I have no answer as why it is so, and surely neither do you. End of the class."
I tend to call this the What if reaction. It comes hand-in-hand with the fear of the unknown. We have these legends and myths that terrify us, yet even though we are adults who tell ourselves, "No, it isn't true," there is some deep part of us asking, "But what if it is true?" Even I, a grown woman, knowing from experience that nothing would come of the challenge, responded blindly to the need to protect "my" children from any consequences I might have provoked. I knew nothing would happen - but I was afraid of the possibility that something might.
I very much suspect that this is part of why we, as human beings, continue to terrorize ourselves with horror movies, ghost stories around the campfire, the passing of urban legends, and the fear of things that go bump in the night. Most often, it's likely the cat that is knocking something over downstairs, or sleep paralysis that prevents us from moving even when we're awake.
But what if it's not?
This page (http://www.ghosts.org/faq/bloodymary2.html) last updated April 13, 2005.