My mother has found selfishness.
I came outside of my room today. By the door, was my mother. We were both surprised. Her because, I don’t leave my room. Me because, she was beautiful.
I mean she’s standing there. Solid beauty. Alive and well and breathing beauty. Breathtaking. Something was off.
Don’t misunderstand. My mother is a beautiful woman. She has all the characteristics. She taught us to recycle plastic and not to litter. She has curves for days. She pronounces comfortable as “cough-table”. Beautiful. But this was different.
I am standing there and it is screaming at me. We exchanged universally acceptable parent-child pleasantries and I was on my way.
It’s evening now and I have been invited for a party. I want a new bag my mother has. This is me in her room. Without asking, look o, I make to carry her bag. She says no. To drop it. Something is off. My mother is a person to collect from. All my life I have known it. Hurt, I go back to my room.
At the same spot outside of my door, I find the thing that is off.
My mother now knows selfishness.
I do not know how it has happened. Or why it has happened. But no longer is she pliant. There is a relearning of self inside. Her curves now are looking like her own.
So I am here, armed with an hypothesis. The radical intensification of beauty in my female parent is a result of her new found selfishness.
Its root, I do not know. But I am happy because of it. And she is happy. And beautiful. Solid beauty. Alive and well and breathing beauty.