“disentangle yourself from your selfish self” by Sasha on her couch


Monday, March 25, 2013
12:39am
5 minutes
If
Rumi


I don’t care about the across-the-way neighbour seeing my bare breasts, or my naked round belly, or even a faint shadow of pubic hair. I want the blinds open in the morning. Since my hair started to turn grey, since I stopped dying it a colour that it never truly was, I care a whole lot less about what other people think. It’s taken forty eight years. As a young one, I would wrap a towel tightly around me and change my clothes in the Fitness Centre bathroom. I only chose that Centre because it had private shower stalls. It mattered more than the fact I had to drive thirty minutes and there was a much nicer gym a few blocks away. Those were my priorities. When Marta, my lover, looks at the wrinkles on my cheeks, she says, in that glorious Dutch accent, “Your wisdom!” She strokes the creases like she might do to a baby’s dimples,