When Monsters Wear Capes
Hope #22: Wildfires propagate on the horizon
Recap: Our narrator escaped her life to make one for herself where she could write her own story. Encountering hope, healing, and unexpected love, she turns the scorched pages of her past to retrieve pieces of her heart, her children.
The seat belt progressively curves around my torso, cutting off circulation. Forcing my eyes open, I trade visions for reality, jiggling numb cells to life.
Opting to drive, I conjure autonomy and oxygen, just like last time.
My mother rushed us inside, bypassing my arms to shut the door. The man I’d married was back in my head, circling, ricocheting through her heavy sigh.
He was an infallible manifestation of inherited dreams. I was a figurine to contrive, no more. His masterpiece. Their eyes regarded me with envious incredulity.
Knitting Luke’s warm fingers through mine, I began my rehearsed speech.
Author’s Notes:
The above (100-word) tale is from a series called Hope I’m creating with May More 💜. Originally published on Medium (2024), we’re restoring it for Substack with stratified flavors and (hopefully) minty reactions from you.
My mother gave me her unfulfilled dreams when I hadn’t formed mine. There was an ideal man, a picture. One who owns a room, charming, sense of humor, magnetic. On his arm, everyone would be jealous of you. They’d call you lucky.
It started with, “Why would someone like that pay any attention to me?”
It’s easy to spot the signs in hindsight, or point them out when it’s someone else’s life. But whenever I’ve been attracted to the wrong kind of person, my brain swam in hazy.
Their light’s so bright. Everyone can see it. I can hide in it, right?
When the spotlight turned off, and we returned to the shadows, they told me I was too much. I should think before I speak. I must bury parts and make the leftover pieces fit into what was socially desirable. The same things my mother advised. Repeatedly.
When I finally learned that lesson, it felt like it was too late. Transforming, healing, or even beginning to think about it was a particular kind of torture.
My journey was long. Uncountable, glacial steps. I never gave a speech. So I wanted to give Hope her movie moment, where she stands up for herself, and tells the story from her point of view. Reveals what was actually going on in her life.
And “no more” takes on a whole new meaning.
Click here for the series link. Find the previous episode below.
Visibility Becomes Me
Hope #21: Hope releases some of the guilt that had kept her lurking in the shadows
thats a powerful reflection Debdutta and i can see how your experience influenced the episode. A pivotal point for sure <3
"He was an infallible manifestation of inherited dreams." Human society as a whole perpetrates this myth and we pass it from one generation to the next. I have never seen it so well defined. Brilliant line.