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[everywordvomit]

the spider catcher

my mum's been the spider catcher for as long as i can remember. mostly indifferent, sometimes apologetic. 'there you go', she'll say, gently lowering a thick legged monster into the shelter of our back garden, as if it wasn't an intruder in our home.

my dad isn't the spider catcher. he says he is more grossed out than scared. either way, he'll call for mum like a knee jerk reaction. on sundays, the only day where she'd work and he wouldn't, we would have to kill them in fear of the apprehension going south. i'm six and on the couch, egging him on as he slowly approaches with his angry birds slipper raised in the air.

mum got a bit fed up of being in a house of people who make her catch the spiders, so when i ring her at 11 to ask her to come to my room, she sighs and tells me it's time to grow up a bit, that if can't get it then it can't get me and it's best to leave it be. i know all of this is true, so i don't argue. it doesn't help me when i am awake through the night, flashlight fixed against the crack in the paint where a leg is sticking out. in the morning, mum tells me she's been pretending to catch spiders for years and laughs when i panic.

dad has always been the 'no' guy. but somehow, i am 19 and just getting home from my night shift at 3am and there's a huge spider above my bed. i call out for him on instinct, before i remember i am an adult who moved out last september who needs to deal withe spiders by herself. it's too late (he's the lightest sleeper you'd ever meet) and i hear the bedroom door pop open.

what

i don't want to admit how scared i am but the silence is worse. there's a spider.

are you fucking serious? it's 3 in the morning

silence. i am planning which pillows to take to sleep downstairs on the sofa before i hear the footsteps creaking up my stairs. he's cursing me under his breath, eyes screwed shut to adjust to the light and he stood at my bedroom door.

seriously? that's not even that big

i wait for him to turn around and go back downstairs. probably cursing that phobias are hereditary. but instead he takes a heavy breath and begins walking towards it. he's crushed it in some tissue before i even register what's going on. he gags a little bit because it was weirdly squishy and then tosses it in the toilet.

it better be big next time

i am 21 and home for the weekend. there's a spider hanging down from the bathroom window. one with short legs and a fat brown body and it makes me feel sick. dad is getting ready for bed.

would you be annoyed if i got you to come kill a spider and it ended up not being that big

he laughs but doesn't respond at first, methodically tapping one key at a time on his phone.

show me where it is, then.

[everywordvomit]

some of the strongest women i know are also the weakest

my roommate spent three years of her wages and life trying to fix a boy's broken heart. she treated him to meals, holidays, presents and undying love and support and he took his broken heart to his ex-girlfriend when she was trying to decide if she wanted the baby he was begging her to keep. the fiercest woman i know took back the weakest man i've ever met and he still broke her heart in the end

my childhood best friend is in one of the toughest jobs in the world. she puts other people first every day and has a nerve of steel to come back determined the next. she's funny, she's gorgeous, she's the smartest person i know and every day she comes home to a sulky, immature child who decided she wasn't worthy of his best side and only shows her his worst

so many incredible women. so much wasted potential

a different kind of anger burns under my skin for them

[everywordvomit]

when gillian flynn wrote "i just think some women aren't made to be mothers" i think of you. not because you haven't done everything a mother needed to; you have raised me to this point. i think of you because your spirit just seems too strong, too unwavering to ever choose to sit back and put us first. i think you had a lifetime ahead of you that i took from you. "some women aren't made to be daughters" i was. i would give you every single second back if i could

[everywordvomit]

i try and think of a poetic way to frame this pain but it falls short, too ugly to fit into such a small box. there is nothing close to poetic about what happened to me. i do not have to make my pain beautiful to accept it.

[everywordvomit]

i know there's lots of good men in this world. i was raised by one. i have lifelong partners in others. but i cannot help all of this red. even the nice boys, the ones who would call out the rape jokes would still raise an eyebrow at discussions of feminist literature. there are some men that make me happy and yet i can't help all of this anger. how is it fair that this is merely a topic of discussion for you? are the statistics not clear enough? are our stories not frequent enough? is our fear not enough? the truth is, nothing will ever be enough because there is no way in this world to explain how being born a woman impacts your life. you will never know the fear of the dark and the freedom it takes away from our movement. you will never feel this distrust against half of the population. when you meet someone of the opposite gender trust is assumed and distrust is earned and you will never have to experience living in a world where it is the opposite.

[everywordvomit]

to mum.

i have never felt both closer and further away from you. i miss you every single day that i don't get to speak to you but every time we speak you say something that makes my chest hurt. i think about the child you pushed away so you could cope with work and i am so desperately angry but i think about the child your mother pushed away and then all i have left is tears. my therapist reminds me that you show your love in the only ways you know how. i feel guilt. i want a hug. i know you have done everything you physically could do for me. is it not gluttony to want more?

i come downstairs for the hug. you have left for work.