Beastie.

I recently witnessed the death of a shooting victim in my front yard, let go of a toxic friendship after being royally screwed over, practically held a New York bartender hostage like a female mantis during mating season, lost my grandmother and then proceeded to fall onto my grieving grandfather after tripping over a pew during her funeral. It’s been an action packed few months of utter shit. I am convinced that i was Vlad the Impaler in a past life. But we are not going into detail about these events, oh no. They involve more people than i and if i delve too deep it could become a very sticky situation and like i mentioned before, i am already knee deep in saccharine shit.

So we are not going further in that regard. Instead i would like to discuss children. Not lovingly i might add. I saw the film Maleficent not long ago and was forever rooting for the evil fairy, it left an indelible impression on me mostly because of her lady strength and fortitude which tickled my feminist inclination. She’s always been one of my favourites regardless, i’m not a Disney princess type. The only Disney character i could ever relate to was Sebastian the Crab as I too was once a sassy, tiny creature fitted with a Caribbean twang.

There were many lines in the film i enjoyed but i could especially relate to her discomfort around children. At one point she declared; “I don’t like chiiildren.” I felt a rush of empathy for the horned lady at that moment. I suppose in a way, i too am an evil fairy when it comes to the younger sect. Hansel and Gretel? Had it coming. I may be exaggerating. They’re not all bad, I admit i do have a type when it comes to kids. I like few, on rare occasions they amuse me. I can recall every kid i’ve enjoyed hanging out with. Some of my friends have funny, awesome ones but i should never baby sit though, ever.

As i grow older and run out of effs to give, my honesty about this topic has become particularly brutal. My Facebook feed is usually flooded with pictures of babies, i’m at that age you see when my contemporaries are settling down and sharing their wailing progeny’s every waking and sleeping move. From this, I constantly find myself rejecting the notion of motherhood. Aren’t we more than this, aren’t we more than ten-second videos of gurgling former embryos? I like puppies, i like a vibrant career with travel, freedom and money. When i was little and other girls played house, i was always the single maid for hire or a random veterinarian. I want shoes with red bottoms not babies with wet ones, i’d rather “adopt” a Panda in China for 10 bucks a month. Admittedly, I’m around kids more than i’d like and i try to fake the maternal chip. They wave at me, blow spit bubbles and hug my legs. They follow me around, i slammed a door in one’s face once. I didn’t feel bad. I call them; small humans, creatures, ITs and now beasties courtesy Maleficent, thank you mam. I myself have been bestowed with the title of; “scary auntie.”

At this point in my life, the thought of being surrounded by children fills me with abject horror. Don’t get me wrong, i want a legacy. It’s the biological truth of our existence. Evolutionary arrogance kicks in at some point and we need to produce an heir in our image. I just wish i could order one grown in a pod, like in Superman or Brave New World; “The more stitches, the less riches!” That’s the idea. I also come from a society where there is still a vein of misogyny running through. Women tend to settle down quickly and pop them out, it’s a small island not much else to do. There is also an epidemic of fatherless children in the impoverished communities. Where is the empowerment of women as individuals? Why must we be defined by our ability to reproduce asap? I also reject the notion that we are all mothers in waiting, that the inclination kicks in every time we see a baby. Nope. Sometimes it doesn’t, sometimes i don’t want to hold your ugly kid.

What i’m getting at is my disdain at the idea that we are only baby-makers and that openly declaring your distaste for most children makes you evil, or a horned creature. Scoff. It doesn’t, it’s ok. Maleficent turned out to be pretty cool even though she didn’t like beasties. Me neither.

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