Complicated Pussy

 

By Kim Davalos

 

facts.

1. this pussy is complicated.

2. Sex and The City fucked me up.

3. i don’t want to have children.

 

carrie bradshaw was, and honestly, still is, the epitome of life goals. years ago i was going through my first real break up with my first love of four years. at that time, my roommate had the Sex and The City series box set and i thought, “meh, why not give this show a try.” and like anything else i do in my life, i go from zero to one hundred real quick. so it came to no surprise that i finished the whole series in less than a month. and it changed my life. the concept that four women, regardless of race or class, from various ages could live in a city and be so… free. i was swept up in the way carrie walked down new york city streets in stilettos, the way she could be a woman focused on her career and be seen as valuable and sexy for it. that’s what i wanted. that’s why i was giving up the love of my life and the concept of desiring romance to complete me as a woman. i didn’t want that. not in the ways society was brainwashing me. with all of the progression women have made, as much as we are told to pursue our dreams, that we too have the freedom to choose our lives, i understand this all as bullshit.

 

as much as woman is empowered to find freedom, we fear woman will become too free. 

 

im a straight shot through the glass ceiling. im a light speed beam right through the barrier before i even turn thirty, yet no one prepared me for the free floating of where to go afterwards. sure, i have my degrees, my robust career, professionally and artistically, and ive reached complete financial independence. but dating remains a constant struggle for me to grasp, never finding a good match or unable to find a man who is not threatened to match me. all the while, friends around me are getting engaged, married, and some even have two children already. and here i am, just trying to get a first date or a guy to text me back.

 

my lola tells me she is proud of my accomplishments but now i need to find a man and settle down. lola says if i don’t find one soon, my biological window of child bearing will quickly whither away. implying, fuck my hard work, nothing matters more in my life than for me to be a mother and a wife. my grandma tells me good luck. grandma doubts there are any men that can handle me. that i am too strong headed, too vocal, too… much. my family’s matriarchs are the voices of the duality society has me being pulled and pushed between on an everyday fucking basis, folks.

 

my parents, god bless them, only want my happiness, whatever that means. but i see the subtle sadness in my mom’s eyes when i tell her i don’t see children in my future. i hear the disappointment in her forced and quiet nod at the idea that her only daughter wont provide her with grandchildren. i imagine she prays before bed to her god that a good man will come into my life and i wont feel so afraid anymore. because my mom knows her daughter best. 

 

as a filipina-american, as a brown woman, i am afraid.

 

in regards to race and class, Sex and The City outcasts the real experiences, barriers, and struggles of women of color. this is where carrie bradshaw will always remain a fantasy and a fictional character. research and statistics have proven that the more successful a woman becomes, the more education and the more income, there is a likelihood she will not be able to marry and have children within a two-parent household – an even more significant barrier for women of color. as women of color, it is enough that we have been raised with the fear of being abandoned and expected to child rear alone. i wonder if carrie bradshaw had to ever worry about shaming her family for not bearing children. i wonder how many times she could afford to purchase plan b, and not even the generic kind. i wonder if carrie bradshaw ever had an abortion. i wonder if carrie bradshaw is too dangerous and unattainable for women of color to become. i wonder if i really get to choose whether or not i want to have children. or as women of color, are we forced into another atmosphere of limitations and glass barriers once we break past the first one?

 

in a month i will be attending my high school ten year reunion where i have a weird anxiety of having to walk into the room with the single woman scarlet letter that will be placed on me. ill get dirty looks from the married women to not talk to their husbands. ill get the “aw, you’ll find love when you least expect it” so often i want to throw up. my life very well is the outlier and the other. 

 

the truth is, i already have found love. the truth is i love my life. the truth is also although i love my life, i question if i am isolating myself from what will create a more fulfilling purpose. the truth is, i sometimes dream of chasing a wavy haired little girl that feels like she is mine. and that also feels like freedom. 

 

facts.

1. being a woman of color is complicated.

2. Sex and The City still fucked me up.
3. i don’t feel like i get a choice in having success and having children.

 

kd

Illustration of Kim Davalos by Kenta Thomas

Illustration of Kim Davalos by Kenta Thomas

 

*this is installation was brought to you for our Otherness Week. This is the first of our 'Themed Weeks' and I'm so excited to finally open up my site to friends to share their stories and ideas. We're starting the look for more folks to pitch in. If you want to write about Death or Gratitude, or topics beyond that, hit me up at kentathomas@foliohport.com : )! Yay -