I was watching Orange Is the New Black just now when suddenly the computer froze and the screen went black. Thank you Cablemas. I was halfway through Episode 13 and suddenly left with only a reflection of myself on the laptop when it hit me.
A couple episodes back Piper mentioned to a teenage delinquent that the scariest thing about prison isn't the other inmates and what they might do to you. The scariest thing about prison is that you realize who you really are because you have nowhere to run. Nothing to distract yourself with. No Twitter, no family, no Facebook drama, no 9 to 5, no carting the kids off to football practice.
It's just you.
And while I shouldn't dare to compare the life of an exiled wife of an undocumented immigrant to prison life, here I am. This life might not be prison, but it has it's limitations. You can only go so far and you can only do so much when you are trapped in a country that isn't your own. You are suddenly forced to realize what you're made of. To realize how you react to things. To realize what you want. To realize what you need.
To realize who you are.
And that, that right there, is what's hard about life in Mexico for me. I want to be the strong woman. The one who doesn't need a bathtub. The one who doesn't need Sunday dinner at mom's. The one who doesn't need health insurance. The one who doesn't need a garage. The one who doesn't need a fancy gym membership. The one who doesn't need date night at AMC and Chili's. The one who doesn't need to own a home. The one who doesn't need stability or to know what's going to happen tomorrow.
But then I see my reflection. I see that I'm not that strong woman. And I see that I'm a little sad still. Deep down under all that positivity. I'm a little pathetic. A little desperate. A little jealous. A little tired.
And in that moment... that exact moment... I realize that I'm just me. This is all I can be in this moment.
Even if it's not exactly who I want to be.