El cordón Umbilical

I still remember the day not that long ago, when my mom was worry because I was going to go to an art gallery by myself, first of all she was going to go with me, however something happened and she had to go somewhere else. Gosh, in my family every time we plan something there’s always something that comes up, I hate it. So, I had made up my mind and I told her that I was going to attend the show. She was very concerned, and deep inside I was too, it was the first time that I was going to do something like that. I even thought it was weird. But I was ready to overcome my fears. I had to stop my mom cause she wouldn’t stop saying “hay no, como sola” “que tal si te pierdes.” “que tal si no encuentras estacionamiento.” “Mother, (Linda, control yourself, i thougth) I’m not five, and if I get lost I can ask for directions, por Dios, Ma'.” She stopped. !Pobresita!

I took her to where she needed it to be and I went back to the city. I’m sure she prayed a thousand oraciones when I left. When I was in my car, driving down the highway, I started listening to music, empowering myself. I’m a big girl. I can do this, SI SE PUEDE, SI SE PUEDE I repeated to myself. I rolled down the windows and let the wind and the brisa touched my skin, it felt good. Me senti grande. Once in the city, I almost got stop by the police for making a left turn where I wasn’t supposed to. You know I made one of those policiaca car moves. I saw the police, Shit, just what I need it, I thought, I guess being a big girl cuesta. I turned around looked at him but he didn’t stop me. I usually get stop; wow Ma’s oraciones are working. What a relief, now I can spend that “ticket” money buying something nice. I found the parking garage, I got out of my car, the place was almost empty, it was dark, and it was silent, I got scared. I picture myself in one of those movies where a fucking serial killer is on the loose, “fuck stop thinking ridiculous shit.” Obviously I blamed my poor mom for those years of having me in a bubble. Come on think about it, first is the “Cucu (cucui),” then El Robachicos” and then “La Llorona.” Wait, wait I can’t blame my culture or my mom for what I am. I knew that it wasn’t her fault it was mine. However, being scared made me think about "asi as de tener tu conciencia kind of thing) All these years I had been in relationships where, let’s put it this way, I wasn’t a leader, I let everybody control me. I drowned myself in self pity, I put myself down for not being smart enough for one person and then I ruined that relationship for being with someone that “wasn’t my equal,” My therapist words. Yeah, yeah I know what you’re thinking, but yeah Mexicans need to see Loqueros too, the priest is not enough anymore. Stop, I need to stop because that’s a whole different story and there’s more to it, and I can’t blame them either. Bottom line is that I was doing this to stop the fucking codependency shit from family and lovers. Wow, Can I say lovers? It doesn’t sound right, sounds too strong, suena muy fuerte, en espanol es mucho mas feo no?
Anyway, back to story
So, I got a hold of myself and I said, “you stop this right now, nothing is going to happened.” There’s no zodiac killer or Jack el destripador around here. Thanks mom, your intimidation worked.
I went inside the building and walked around, so many interesting arts, the Chinese art was weird but I like it. I thought about La Xinita, even thought she’s Japanese. Camine. It was the first time that I had the opportunity to see a Pablo Picasso Cuadro. It was amazing how many times had I looked at the same pictures in art books, and I’m barely seeing it. Todo lo he hecho tarde.
Why, why, Why,
So let’s go back and see why my mom’s intimidation always works, oh, but other people have used that too, and I’m tired of it. As far as my mom can it be because I can’t let go of the umbilical cord? I need to find my bellybutton, my ombligo. I don’t think she buried it, I think she takes it with her everywhere we go. So, she can control me. I mean come on, bury the damn thing I don’t even care if its in the kitchen like the Mayans do, I don’t care if I end up liking la cocina or the domestic duties, but the cocina and the domestic duties of my own house, Shit. So, after realizing that a Mexican Madre never kicks her “adult” daughter out of the house and never let’s her discover the world, before marrying, I decided to break away………………………………to move, to have my freedom, mi independencia personal.....

Yeah, yeah all of that just to say that i'm trying to be a mujer......