summer

ORIGINALLY POSTED May 22, 2023

i would be a fabulous fat woman.

this is an affirmation of mine. i am eating at the kitchen alone, holding a lettuce leaf up to the sun, watching the dew drops of oil glisten against the thin veins holding the leaf together. i begin twirling it. i have these perverted fantasies of celebrity status, and in my head i'm recounting what i would say if i were on television. i'm a fabulous cook, i would say, i used a gentle spoonful of garlic and heaping drizzles of extra virgin olive oil, it's good for the skin and digestive track, i would say. it keeps me looking for glow-y. i start daydreaming about skincare routines.

i hear my mom come in, her reflection ricocheting through the big bay windows, her looming figure gliding across my vegetable garden outside. it isn't growing very well. she yelled at me when i expressed disappointment with it.

we talk briefly, and i'm struck with electric motivation, i'm reminded i only write well when i eat well, i only talk well when i sleep well, the pores of my body absorb wholeness when i return to the soft nest of my childhood bedroom. i think about how awful this is for my career.

i think then about mothers. my friends mothers hardly let me get a word in when i talk to them. i wonder if i will become that kind of mother. i wonder how awful that'll be for my career.

i glide upstairs, thinking about how to make my dorm room as nest-y. maybe i would wake up at 5am every day and cook salmon in the kitchen. my room mates would be amazed with my happy-go-lucky attitude. my hedonistic self care indulgences. i would dance for them pretending i was simply dancing for myself. amble little footsteps in the 7am sun, full bellied, full hearted. they would say i was simply so glow-y.

i turn the corner, watch my long shadows creep down the hall, and turn my head to my mother's bedroom. and there sits my dog, a top the bed, the sun beaming from behind her, getting caught in her white fur.

and she is really glowing.