“Such nonsense.” Yet again, she dismisses what’s been an issue my entire life. “You’re curvy. Voluptuous.”
“Yes, but I’m thick. More like Dad’s mother and sister.”
“This is in your head. I see how men look at you.”
“That’s inyourhead. And if you’re honest, you know I’m telling the truth. People here are fixated on looks and status. I want to go someplace where I fit in better.” I hope she realizes I’m not talking about clothing. “I want to wake up every morning excited to do something because I love it and am passionate about it. Not climb an invisible ladder of status and success that I don’t care about.”
“Now, you’re thinking like Miguel. That’s not realistic. People have responsibilities. We can’t do what we want, when we want. I promise, having a full life surrounded by people you love, that love you,” she sighs as if that will add to her point. “That’s what makes all the difference, what makes a life fulfilling.”
“Mom.” I sigh.
“What? You act like I’m putting chains and shackles on you.”
If I stay, she might as well.
“I understand that because you love me, you want me to have a life like yours. You want me to work on the boards of non-profits with you, as a mother-daughter team, to solicit donations and plan galas together.”
“What’s wrong with that? We’ve been blessed with a good life. Shouldn’t we do all that we can to give back and help those less fortunate?”
“Of course we should.” Mom’s not wrong, but that’s not what I want. At least not at this point in my life, and I don’t know how to get through to her. She’s using logic to prove her points, and I’m bordering on sounding like a whiny little girl who’s upset that she isn’t getting her way. “Please, try to understand, I want something different. Something that I can put my sweat and hard work into and build from the ground up. Something that’s mine.”
“I can help you do that.”
I shoot her a look.
“We can lend you money. I can call in favors. I know plenty of people who are in positions—”
I reach my hand out and place it over hers. “Mami, I want to do this on my own. I’ll call you every day. And I promise, once I’m making money, I’ll donate to every cause you want.”
“Why can’t you stay home and do that?” Her eyes well with tears. “You can live with us until you get married and start your own family.”
“If I stay here, I’m never going to do any of it. Not move out, not start my own business, and not get married. I appreciate that you want to help, but nothing will change. You and Papá will keep trying to set me up with men I have no interest in, and honestly, I don’t have time to date if I want this to work. I need to spread my wings.”
“You still haven’t given me one good reason why you can’t at least stay in town. You want to move out? Fine, I’ll find you an apartment.”
Fine, she asked for it. “I’m not happy here. I don’t think I ever was. If I open a bakery here, all people will see is a fat girl indulging herself with cookies and cakes.”
“That’s not . . .Don’t talk about yourself like that.” Mom’s brows furrow. “I told you, you’re not fat, you’re . . . full figured.”
Another euphemism. “It doesn’t matter. Bottom line, I’m not skinny, and I never will be. I’m okay with that.”
“If you were truly okay with that, then you wouldn’t be looking to run away.”
“You think it’s running away, I think running toward something. Toward the beginning of a new life.”
“A life without dating.” She shakes her head. “What if you continue working at the hospital and start a catering business on the side?”
“You’re. Not. Listening! I don’t want to work at the hospital anymore. I don’t like medical billing. I never did. It’s so damn boring.”
“How will you find a doctor to marry?”
Can I bang my head on the wall?We keep having this same conversation over and over and over again. This conversation proves my point. I need space. From my parents.
“That wasyourdream. Your goal—”
“Yes. Your father is a good man, and he’s given us a good life.”
I close my eyes, ready to snap.
