lady bird
words by Bhavya, art by Mariam Seshan
14 08 2023
18:32:13
my name is bhavyasri, but i prefer to be called bhavya.
i’m only 18, and i find myself packing for college once again the day before my flight, on this very night of august 14th.
except unlike last year, i don't end up sobbing in my mom’s embrace right after packing.
i like to tell myself that i’m a lot smarter now.
i made sure to pack my puffer coat and gloves because living in arizona failed to prepare me for the harsh winters of the east.
i manage to load three suitcases with:
the avocado throw my mom and i cuddle in,
the dusty polaroids of my friends i couldn’t bear to leave behind,
and all of my closet.
a piece of my heart has been tucked into a corner of each suitcase.
yet, i did manage to forget tupperware and cutlery though—a rookie mistake if you ask me.
i like to tell myself i’ve become accustomed (more like desensitized) to this routine.
the idea of leaving is a fleeting thought, especially when i spent the past year bidding farewell to everyone: my parents, my best friends, my fourth year friends, and my grandparents.
my patience wore thin, however, as one relentless question tore me apart day by day since 2021,
“how could you possibly think of leaving your family behind?”
as if i committed a great sin by accepting my offer to uva.
what once stood as the core memory of celebrating my acceptance letter with my closest friends at our favorite italian diner has now been clouded by the shame of the path i chose for myself.
it shouldn’t be such a big deal, right?
i spent my childhood moving from city to city, so having to leave behind the people i cherish and love should not affect me.
but now, my heart aches knowing i choose to abandon everyone each year.
as much as i desperately desire to feel the sweet release of independence (a brown girl’s dream), the gnawing, stomach-churning sensation of guilt slowly makes its home at the pit of my stomach.
i feel nauseous just thinking of the freedom i have in college to embrace the world and what it offers.
in the end, it doesn’t feel any better knowing the brief moments i spend at home during breaks serve as reparations for wanting to move out.
the pictures of me on the walls of our house will always haunt me during my visits, a reminder of the life i had left behind.
sometimes, i dread going back to cville. it feels like i just drank pungent cherry-flavored medicine.
i feel delighted knowing the medicine will cure me, but it feels unpleasant as it slides down my throat smoothly while the pungent cherry-flavor infiltrates my taste buds.
moving away has been necessary for me to learn – to grow.
and i am forever grateful that my parents have been supportive throughout the process despite our financial situation.
yet, above all the rejuvenating, positive energy of my academic journey, there is always a slight feeling of shame tugging at my heart–
the shame in deserting my sister to fend for herself with no support system,
the shame in not staying at my state university and pursuing CS, a secure path that rids my parents of unnecessary anxiety,
and the shame of leaving my mom to toil her heart and soul into running the house herself.
—
15 08 2023
02:15:31
i should not be crying right now. i just shoved my suitcases into the trunk.
i honestly just want to get out of here.
it won’t be the same knowing i leave this house not as the five year old girl dashing out to reach her bus on time,
the ten year old coming from swim meets exhausted by the number of laps she swum,
the thirteen year old who wanted to run away because no one listened to her when in reality she never understood her parents,
and definitely not the seventeen year old whose heart had been shattered into pieces after witnessing her mom refuse to get out of the car to hug her goodbye before she left for college first year.
i leave as an eighteen year old who writes stories to rekindle her relationship with her family.
as i gaze at my reflection through the sunroof, i see the moon at its brightest and fullest form. my mother’s words ring through my head,
pournami is always an auspicious day, as it is a day of blessing and abundance.
everything will be okay.
the feeling of contentment is momentary because as soon as i look through the side mirror, the pain of my departure in my sister’s eyes cuts deep through my heart.
her shoulders slump down, and her wounded expression sticks to her face even as her hand giddily waves me away.
and so we pull out of the driveway once again, knowing my sole purpose of returning is just to leave again, the wounds of my departure fresh in my family’s heart, always.
