Writing Myself Out



As a child, I have a distinct memory of my mom telling me by no means did I need to be married to have my own children, that I could have as many children as I wanted on my own so long as I was able to care for them, that I did not need a man to have children.

Yes, my mom is amazing and progressive and wonderful, this I know. But that’s not what strikes me most about this memory. What stands out is my desire, even back then, not to be married.

I was never the girl who wanted the ring and the wedding and the man (or woman). I never fantasized about my wedding day or my dress or my name next to his (or hers). When other girls did the same, I wondered at their desire to be suffocated by another because in my mind…

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