I consider the work a cathartic farewell to girlhood, or at least, the idea of the line between girlhood and adulthood. As a kid, I had all these expectations for what adulthood would be like, and I find myself still clinging to them even now. Besides others’ expectations, for example, I never thought I would have kids, and I never will; I did think I would be confident, assertive, much taller, and be able to give the air that I knew what I was doing. I would be a social butterfly, and go to all kinds of parties. Instead, I’m still thinking about childhood bullies and events, for instance, slamming my thumb in the car door and getting to miss piano lessons, or that boy in school hollowing out a battery with my scissors. So while this is probably all related to anxiety, I hope that it brings to mind the larger notion of what it means to be an adult, especially an adult woman, and the flawed nature of that expectation.
Thank you to Nelson Milum for your technical support.