Member-only story
Letter to Mother
What would be, what should have been
To learn about my Around the World with Eighty Women (AW80W) project — which recounts the fascinating narratives of (extra)ordinary women from across the globe — you can read the introduction here or visit the AW80W website.
Dear Mother,
I dreamt of a white horse last night. It reminded me of another dream, on another night when a band of horses galloped past us, and I said, ‘Look, mother, look!’ But you had your head bent into your phone.
By the time you looked up, the horses had gone over the brow of a hill and you denied they ever existed. It has always been like this.
I could have been a ballet dancer. I longed for a tutu and to wear a bun in my hair. In our living room, I’d pose in white tights and a frilly underskirt. Now, I would have good posture and healthy flexibility to carry my spine.
My body would be my own; my flesh and bones woven around me, not sewn into the fabric of others who cut away parts of me. Snip, snip, snip.
My nose would point in the air with pride, not down at my shadow in the hope I would sink into it and…
