As I tried to look through the dresses on a Multiply-based merchant girl's account, trying to console myself for the responsibilities I am facing and am about to face, I realized something: being a mother is the worst, hardest job on earth, the biggest source of headache, the most draining, and yet so many moms just declare how fulfilling it is.
I don't know how they do it, actually. I don't know how all those mommies survived taking care of us.
Looking at those dresses earlier, I'm reminded of how a woman dear to my heart had longingly looked through dresses, possibly a stress release? To amuse? To forget?
As I close one cycle of my life, officially set fire to the banner/marker of the years that I was so familiar with: my teens, I look ahead to my next years, years of building, years of learning how to die to myself more, as I say "NO" to those dresses I long and crave for, and live on prayer that those dresses I've wanted will be mine, at 1/10th of the original price.
I don't know if I walked blindly into this or if I was aware that the guillotine would fall and fall violently. Maybe I knew, and walked into it and neatly placed my head on the chopping board anyway.
But either which way, there is one call: to grow up. To not shirk from responsibility, to stop living for self.
Remind me that the next time you're with me and I will look ever so longingly at that velvet or faux leather skirt on display at the Ukay.
No comments:
Post a Comment