31 years ago in the past, a baby girl was born. She was the youngest of two siblings in total. Over time she grew up and noticed certain things in her small, privileged and isolated world. Like any little girl, she marveled at so many things. From the greening of the grass, to a simple walk with her parents in the park. She always had two sides. Two sides that seemed to be parallel to each other but never touched....
On one side, innocence and sweetness. That alternative was the one preferred by her parents and by the world in general. At the time she was born, and above all, in the country where she lived, that was what was expected of future women: companions, friends, trustworthy, caring, adorable, come on? The famous archetype of the female breadwinner figure...
As time went by, the little girl grew up. She stopped looking at her parents and all the people tilting her head to be able to see them. Time did what it does best, that everything evolves, and over the years, both her figure and her body underwent changes that began to attract the attention of boys and men ... She was always a woman who loved the erotic but never had the courage or the confidence required to be a femme fatale.
The relationship, of the now woman in our story, with her mother, far from relaxing and simplifying, led to a cycle of verbal violence and manipulation that eroded the girl's minimal confidence. Phrases such as "you are no good for a man to take you seriously" or "you will never be respected by anyone" were commonplace in the home where she lived.
Growing up in fear and terror of your own body is something that, in the words of the young woman, "no one should ever experience. Especially not from an authority such as your own mother". The inexorable passage of time continued, and with it the dichotomy between what the girl always felt as her own, as beautiful, as natural, and the terror of expressing it and living it naturally.
The years of youth are supposed to be for living experimentation to the fullest. And far from being able to enjoy the freedom and responsibility that comes with this stage of her life, the girl had only one thing in mind: "not to disappoint my mother". Since any hint of vanity and personal appreciation of what she considered beautiful was a "direct offense" to the morality and conservative values of her mother...
Living life through someone else's eyes is not only demoralizing and psychologically heartbreaking, but also generates a strong feeling of resentment that mutates daily and that far from dissipating, seems to be waiting for a moment of implosion; of catharsis... Something similar to this happened with the protagonist of this story, the girl who became a woman and a mother, after "enduring" for decades, one day decided to start facing her worst "monster": her mother.
Everything she always carried inside herself, what defined her, what she was passionate about. How to appreciate herself as a beautiful, erotic, desirable and beautiful woman, without falling into indecency or other practices, from one day to the next, simply resurfaced. And is that, as happens with a pressurized gas, always in one way or another, will find a way to escape. It may be through the release of pressure manually, or by explosion. But it will always happen.
It took years for the girl to learn the value of her own humanity, her being and that it is okay to love and value herself as a beautiful human being. Decades and time that can never be recovered had as a consequence the breakup of a relationship that might not have had the outcome it ended up having. Looking back seems like an enthralling undertaking for our girl, but she has decided to do exactly the opposite: to love her versions of herself and learn to be comfortable with what she feels, sees and appreciates. A beauty that may seem banal, but is definitely not even close to be such a thing...
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Pictures on this post were taken by me