My Mother / My Self

“Somewhere in the middle of your book [My Mother / My Self, de Nancy Friday] I did have to get some sleep and during that night came the following dream:
I was traveling by train. My mother was with me and we were sitting at a little table by the window. We both had the same little red handbags – almost like purses. My mother wanted something from her handbag and took the wrong one from the table. She opened it and saw it was mine.
‘Mom, you have my bag’.
‘Oh, do I, well never mind, they are similar anyway.’
‘But I have all my things in there.’
‘Oh, well, if you are being so childish about it…’
And there, as she absentmindedly gave me my way, she wrote her name in may bag! I couldn’t utter one word in astonishment. Case closed.
Hours later I realized in a shock what those intriguing red purses meant – she had stolen my sexuality and my person with it. She stole them so easily as if they meant nothing at all. And I just sat there and let her do it. (In Dutch * there is an old fashioned word for purse that is also used for vagina in slang.)”

In Women on Top, Nancy Friday

Ops, abri o livro ao acaso e a primeira coisa que li foi isto...

* E não disse que a carta enviada à autora vinha de uma mulher holandesa.