“I shouldn’t be doing this”, Donna thought.
She was very good at feeling guilty about everything. It was part of her upbringing and a general sense of unease had become embedded in her personality.
“Relax? I can’t relax!”
She was lying on that bed that made her feel guilty; Donna kept on thinking of all the things she had left unfinished.
She had to rush to make her secret appointment on time; she was flustered, nervous, slightly embarrassed.
“Did I remember to shave my legs?”
As she was there, horizontal, with her face down, exposed and vulnerable, Donna started to mentally scan her body.
Her mind wandered to all her imperfections: her stretch-marks, her generous legs, her flabby abdomen.
And now, the moment she had been both dreading and looking forward to had arrived.
She had been married and remarried. Her body was a powerhouse that gave her two beautiful children. Yet she felt ashamed.
Donna, mulher, mujer, femme, Frau. Woman.
A woman’s work is never done.
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