untitled
I am encouraged to believe I have free will.
I am desperate to feel in control of the chaos.
My biggest fear is falling into the monotony of the masses.
Yet I find I am often far too much woman.
I always snoop.
I pretend I am a detective and read my moms diary.
She has hidden it under a stack of bibles.
Praying to keep parts of her life,
and surely herself hidden.
One page reads,
“Someone told me I was fat today. I mean, I am but I hate it.”
Knowing we are far too much alike, I want to continue on.
I reach in my purse for a snack.
I have a slim fast shake that I grab first before tossing it in the trash.
Is this how I take control?
I buy gummy bears for 99 cents on my break from investigative work.
Eat some on my way back to “housesit.”
(Search for all the ways I don’t want to be my mother.)
Keep reading.
“If you’re sneaking and reading this I hope you feel GOD.”
I am sitting in her art room.
It looks a lot like mine.
I feel as if I wrote the last line.
“The world will keep spinning no matter how big I am!!
But I’m going on a diet anyways.”
This womanhood is so much of a push pull of acceptance.
Balance of control.
All of us are tightrope walkers
whether the world keeps spinning,
whether we keep hiding it under the wrath of GOD,
a stack of bibles,
a bag of gummy bears and a thrown out slim fast,
or not.
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definitely resonates… has me remembering the dread i felt when in my 30s my body began (without my permission!) comparing itself to my father’s… a decade and a half later: mission complete.