Blood and Guts: Helena Lazaro
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Confession
September 19, 2005 10:04 PM

Here is a story I wrote over the weekend. I debated putting it up because I was concerned it might hurt my mother's feelings. It has been a sore point for her when we discuss matters of the home, domestic roles, and what I may have felt was missing from my life as a child.

The bottom line is that I feel this way. Whether it makes sense or not, whether I should "get over it" or not, is another matter entirely.

In fairness, I'd like to say that while she never wore an apron, she always wore the pants. My mother set a good example for me in many ways. She showed me how to go for what I wanted, how not to take no for an answer, how to survive even when I didn't feel like I could. I think these skills have served me far better than a fantastic recipe for cupcakes. Some things can be learned at any point in life; some things, I believe, are instilled in us. We can't ever fake them.

Ok, that concludes the Disclaimer portion of the entry. Now here is the story, Confession, which has been posted into fiction. Even though it ain't. I've never told this whole story before, by the way.

Not even to my mom.


More storytelling
Comments

ok i think i totally blew what you were getting at in your previous post.

and i'm so guilty of doing the same as a child.

i think you were right to lay out this absolution, and it's a very intelligently introspective piece.

children have difficulty explaining things in the same way that grownups do and haven't yet understood that families have backstories for every image they give off. i think it's just one of those projecting things that we learn about when we're older.

As children we may want something that may be inarticulable but still something we lack. So we project the idea that another person has perfection and we'll attempt to acquire that perfection. Not because we're bad little boys and girls, but because we don't yet have the capabilities or the experience of hoisting themselves towards their own ideas of perfection.

Posted by: Ceity on September 19, 2005 10:21 PM

Well thank you very much for reading it.

It's funny because I remember my mom telling me things about their family later that I never knew, which sort of shattered the whole image.

If you asked me NOW, I'd say I really believe it's true that the more "perfect" the image someone is exuding, the more likely it is that their insides are 10 times more fucked up than mine.

Posted by: Helena on September 19, 2005 10:27 PM

Wow. The child's anxiety in that piece was palpable, and I am in awe of your ability to write and make it so real.

Posted by: Jen Neil on September 20, 2005 03:42 PM

I totally agree with you about how the more perfect someone is, the more I suspect they really are more fucked up than me. I've found that people who have to have "the perfect image" are usually trying to hide something very imperfect.

Well told, as always, Helena.

Posted by: cookiebitch on September 20, 2005 04:37 PM

Thanks so much to you both for reading it.

Jen, I'm glad I could convey those feelings.

CB, I just realized you had already written the perfect metaphor for that thought! The entry you have, with the sad sad housewife across the street from you, with her spotless garage. That sums it up, right there.

Posted by: Helena on September 20, 2005 05:44 PM

With all the disclaimers, I'm not sure what I was expecting... something worse somehow. But then it's how we judge ourselves that's usually most harsh.

Nice vivid piece. And I still have a thing for perfect lush green lawns.

Posted by: claire on September 21, 2005 01:57 PM
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