MY MOM CUT MY HAIR

My mother cut my hair and made me wear pants because I always got sick and couldn’t wear skirts, I just had to sit on the floor and play to get a fever of 40. I was a tomboy, who listened to music from the 50s and 60s and wrote a lot of strange stories… I was not used to fairy tales and it was better that way, growing up I realized that I would never be a fairy. I’m not good at making myself loved, I’m not lovable, I’m better at unleashing a grudge. I wanted to be a fairy, but I was born a witch, strange and without sequins. I’m not looking for someone who loves me, someone to show all my bizarre ideas, the ones I cultivate in the evening on the terrace of my house, while I enjoy a sunset and caress my cats. I made space many times in my habits to welcome someone, but I realized that I was never welcome in their habits. I wished I could have been a fairy and do spells for myself too… I worked on my edges while taking care of the bruises they left on me. I too fell silent in front of their silences, their walls, and yet I tried to climb over, as a tomboy I could do it. I tried and I failed: they left me out and I stayed out. I would have liked to be a fairy, but I’m just a girl, with edges and oddities that have become accustomed by now … And whoever gets used to certain loneliness survives.

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