MODERN IFIGENIA

I woke up this morning to a baby puking on me while smiling unapologetically. For the first time her lack of inhibition worried me. This Mother's Day, I thought I'd be reflecting on being a mother for the first time and jot down some mushy words, instead, I think back to the day I walked in on my mom having greater aspirations for my daughter than she did for me.   My dad raised me to thrive in the world I deserved, my mom raised me to survive in the world I was born into. Needles to say, my dad's parenting was liberating and empowering, my mom's was stifling and suffocating, so of the two parents I always rebelled against HER. She would often say that I was created fighting her given how difficult her pregnancy was with me. She was right, my earliest memories with my mom are of our arguments. We fought like the swords of two warriors: I was driven by a desire to be free and capable, her by fear that I might suffer consequences the patriarchy metes out to misbehaving wo...

It wasn't until I was 13 years old that I learned I was fat. That was the year I moved to the United States and began to have a difficult time finding clothes that fit appropriately. I never really thought about that change until much later when I would look back on childhood photos and was surprised by how well my clothes fit, and how well-dressed I mostly was. As someone who is very fashionably challenged, I was surprised that at some point in time, I knew how to dress well...and I seemed to have lost the skill once I had many clothing options. When did I lose that skill? I began to explore that phenomena and quickly came to an odd realization. In the U.S. I clearly always had more clothing options that I ever did in Venezuela. Ready-made clothes in the U.S. were affordable so everyone could buy them. That was the key, in Venezuela, ready-made clothes were very expensive, so not too many people purchased them. In fact, I don't remember my mom buying anything ready-mad...