I had another dream about my stepmother last night. In this dream, she had gone shopping for me, and picked out some clothing necessities that I don’t currently have, which all fit me perfectly. She had even found me a perfectly fitting pair of pants (this is my clothing holy grail, since my thighs are large and my waist is small).
Sometimes I have what I think are “fantasy” dreams about my stepmom– dreams in which we are talking congenially, or she has done something kind for me, etc. These are things that never happened in real life.
When I was little, she would take me clothes shopping before the beginning of the school year. She pick out very conservative, dorky clothes– she would pull something from the rack, command me to try it on, and I was too scared of her to tell her I didn’t like it. I was always so envious of the kids at school that had normal clothes.
One time when I was in elementary school, after the weather had started getting warm, I snuck a pair of shorts and a t-shirt into my bag so I could change into them after school. I was hanging out with friends when she came to pick me up from the after-school daycare. I was sitting on top of a jungle gym as saw her walking up. She immediately noticed that I was not wearing the outfit she had picked out for me that day, and she was livid, but didn’t say anything until after we got back to the car. I don’t remember what she said to chastise me– I just remember being incredibly afraid of her.
After I moved out of my stepmom’s house during my senior year of high school, it took me years of “reintegration” or “natural deprogramming” or “socialization” to figure out how to buy clothes for myself. It took me years to develop a style. (This style ended up being muted colors, lots of black, anything to keep people from looking at me.)
As I’ve progressed with photography, done the 365-days self-portraiture project, grown up some more, I find myself constantly revamping my style, and having fun with it. That is something my stepmom definitely would not have approved of.
It’s amazing that I can be an adult (29 years), and still not have really internalized the fact that I can wear WHATEVER I WANT, I can eat WHATEVER I WANT, I can do WHATEVER I WANT, without a parent looking over my shoulder and criticizing me.
Happy Time Harry’s girlfriend after work, 2007 (self portrait)
