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By Alycia Rubulis
“When I was growing up the relationship I had with my mother wasn’t a very affectionate one. A rare hug from her felt as forced as a kiss on the cheek between my parent’s strained relationship. Occasionally I would test her by not saying I love you when we would say goodbye. Often she wouldn’t say it at all and at one point I carried it out for over a week until I broke and said it. I remember going to friend’s houses and being jealous of their mothers doting on them and shocked as I discovered it was normal for parents to be affectionate with one another. Coming into my early adult years I began to search for the affection and validation I felt so devoid of in my childhood. This caused me to accept hollow intimacy from various people and telling myself that it was genuine even though I knew it wasn’t. Inevitably I would end up hurt and as a way to cope with the pain I would lie in bed and hold myself pretending I was receiving comfort from whomever had hurt me. After this occurred many times, I was no longer trying to mend my pain, it became habitual for me to hold myself before I fell asleep and when I woke up. It was my way of accepting that I couldn’t expect people to love me the way I wanted but I could control how I loved myself.
The idea for this series came to me late at night while I was holding myself. I wanted to capture the women I care for doing the same and giving themselves the love they deserve.”
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On the subject of love we all know how to write, but nobody knows how to read.
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dante (musa trans.) / joan naviyuk kane / dante (ciardi trans.) / david foster wallace / tauba auerbach / w.s. merwin
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