MADONNA DESCHAMPS AL-AMIN grew up always giving love but never receiving. Born into a Catholic family from a French mother and immigrant Egyptian father she knew that things were always going to be difficult. Because of the way her mother taught her...
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It was now Spring and my transition into a woman had already passed. Yet, I still lived in my mother's house. I had no job or no real passion, what was I supposed to do? It's not like she'd let me,but I hadn't developed my sense of freedom yet, even at 21. I was going to be 22 in just two weeks. I had learned to separate from religion, though. I was content in lying and focused on not giving up, especially on days like these.
I sat by a small lake, sitting on a rather conveniently placed rock that I'd thrown a blanket over and painted my sights on a small easel. The trees were shining an emerald green, the water so clear you could see all the sea life in it and practically name every single one; the sun forming in ripples on the surface of the lake.
But what really stood out to me was a swan. A pristine, angelic white swan. By now, I'd already finished painting, but adding one more small detail wouldn't hurt, would it? I painted over marks in the water where the swans gracious body sat peacefully. The entire time I added it to my painting it didn't seem to move once. It did help, but it confused me.
In some sort of trance, I'd gotten up. I slowly walked over to the edge of the lake, my light tan dress skirt dirtying from the soil beneath it. I stared at it for a while. It looked so beautiful. I wished I was as beautiful. The swan swam against the current at a walkable pace. I followed it, striding with it. The animal then raised its head to the sky and opened up its wings. A ray of sunlight glowed on its chest. I stared in awe. What was this? Some kind of sign? I copied its mannerisms and felt the sun shine on my neck and chest.
Then, the creature put its wings down and stared at me. I stared back. I bowed and lifted up my skirt in a wings motion. The swan, I thought for a moment, was doing the same until it flew away. I watched it fly and I no longer felt awe. I felt envy. I wish I could fly away like that. Free like a bird. Like the swan.
I looked in the water at my reflection. My dark hair, curly and frizzy, my lips, a dull, chapped pink; and my eyes, dark and baggy. At this time in my youth, I never believed love would find me. But I still wanted to feel human. I took off my flats and dipped a toe into the water. It was cold and clean. I then backed up before screaming and launching myself into the water. I laughed with delight at how cold the water was. I lowered the back of my head into the water and gazed up into the bright sky. Fish swam and tickled my legs, back and arms as I lay still in the water, giving some small kicks so I could stay afloat. I took a deep breath in and closed my eyes then exhaled.
I opened my eyes again after what seemed like a few minutes, but the moon had taken her place in favor of the sun. I was cold and soaking, but I didn't feel uncomfortable at all. I feel like I needed that. I got up out of the lake and dried myself with two of my blankets and squeezed the moisture from my hair and clothes. I packed away my painting, which had already dried, my easel and art pallet, before heading off to home.
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