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Sometimes I want to feel like a child, sometimes I want to feel like a woman. But I never seem to be the right age at the right time.
Publicado el 10, ene, 2024
Actualizado 10, ene, 2024
Bienestar
2 min
Bienestar
Publicado el 10, ene, 2024
Actualizado 10, ene, 2024
2 min
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Sometimes I want to feel like a child, sometimes I want to feel like a woman. But I never seem to be the right age at the right time.
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Or: The tribulations of Awareness of Myself and Perception of Others, two best enemies with a magical rivalry (Episode 1: Never a Woman at the Right Time).
Part 1
In the supermarket that day, I play-pretend at being a businesswoman; back straight, basket defying the gravity at the very edge of my fingertips, eyebrows slightly furrowed on an almost perfect poker face. I compare prices per kilo while adjusting fictitious glasses on the tip of my nose. I throw my future purchase into the basket with a quick, brisk gesture. The gesture of a woman well-grounded in business -I tell myself.
That’s until a store employee decides to break my fantasy by adding a "yooplah!" to my throw. A yooplah dedicated to me. A Mary Poppins-style "yooplah", a cheer for children. My script is turned upside
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