journal · motherhood

the other moms and me

once, a friend of mine told me i had this ‘human repellent’ fluid in my system that kept people away. i laughed it off though i knew he was right to the core. i wasn’t triggered to even explain that it’s not repellent. it’s onion skin. whatever. reality check is that i don’t make many friends. i can’t. it’s like trying to enjoy durian; no matter how hard i try i just can’t do it. am i cussin’ proud to be socially challenged? what?!

this creeping worry always claws my back everytime i have to meet new people and blend in. that’s always been the crappiest moment. and there i was, among moms at my daughter’s first school. trying to be nice and smile a lot but it hurt my face to grin so much i stopped. the other moms didn’t seem to have trouble bringing up conversations and touching each other on the arms and laughing and all. they ganged up so quickly. i didn’t care. thought maybe i’d do better the next day and have enough guts to come up to them and say hi. oh sweet heaven… *rubbing my face on the brickwall*

it’s almost three months now and i still don’t know any of the moms’ names. know their faces so well but don’t have their names. i swing casual smiles every now and then and hold short conversations too, but never too deep or too personal. where have i been? by the swings, reading books until school time is over. yes, true, i never try hard enough to break my walls down or peel my onion skin. what am i supposed to do? maybe i need to grow an alter ego.

the nicest mom who frequently steps up to me is actually this bully’s mom. hahaha. yeah. inspite of having a bully son, she’s a very warm person. well, there are other moms who stay solitude too, i notice. one is this petite mom of Firda’s. she’s as quiet as a mouse, never raises her tone, never runs, never rushes, never seems panic, and rides an electric bike. also this Maritza’s mom who reminds me of my aunt so much. simple bobbed hair, always wears batik blouses, and usually stands by the window to keep her daughter from crying.

while reading books, i can’t help to find the talks leak. well, they mostly talk about their kids, homes, cookings, family… and i wonder if they have any social network accounts. what movie do they like? do they have any favorite books? do they listen to music every so often? what are their hobbies? if i come up to them and ask these questions would they widen their eyes and say “huh what?!” my topics suck. especially because i don’t speak local language and they do. that surely makes a huge difference.

guess i’ll spend a whole year sitting by the swings reading books at my daughter’s school hoping hard she’ll do better at making friends than her mom.

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