today I did my laundry
I looked into the reflection of my face on my phone screen and saw my mom's face painted against darker features
I saw her cupid bow lips, her button nose. I saw her freckles splattered on her face as if a paintbrush sprayed her cheeks. I saw the rosacea painting her a warm red
it felt like I was a little kid looking up at my mom again, when she was taller than me. it shocked me. I stared with my heart in my stomach at my own reflection that so perfectly resembled a young version of my own mother,
of a version so young she wasn't even my mother yet,
of Angel. Those are our reserve names, gifted to us by our elders. Ann and Angel- mother and...
and...
that's so strange. where did Ann, her lovely little daughter go?
I always told people that I didn't look like my mom. I couldn't! she was one of my worst abusers!
you can imagine how cold my blood ran when I realized today I'm just a version of her that made different choices
