Aphrodite's Curse

Look to the Sky

In my younger days, I would travel with my mom to one of the smallest trees that would bud the brightest colors in the spring. We had recently switched due to construction by the humans and left that to some other feathers. Although, by the end of my first and only year at this tree, I would remember the first time I betrayed my mother. Albeit, not in the exact way I betrayed my father, but in a more subtle and gradual way. I had just started to get more annoyed with her presence, but it annoyed me more that I didn't know why, I just wanted to understand things. I wanted to understand everyone, but I couldn't. My nerves during this period would often leave my bladder functioning at undesirable variables which would also increase the amount of suspense I had during the day as at that age, I was probably old enough not to do that, but I still had issues with it. It was hard to recognize my bodily needs and harder to identify what everyone else wanted.

The wheels took me back and forth each day I was in mid-plumage, with maybe only one or two others who would reply to my song, and even then, the position of my eyes betrayed me. A starling had landed on the same branch as me, but at the time I mistook her for a robin. I didn't chirp, but she sang and danced about me, articulating a combination of humor and crassness that seemed rather inappropriate given that it was wintertime, and we were exposed to the elements. I feared the snowstorm in the distance would have found me tied up in trouble with this bird's silly games. However, each day, she was there at the branch, chirping away charms of nonconformity. Sitting in that room, I think a couple of times the storm asked her to rest, but she did not obey. It made me anxious.

Of course, during these awkward days, I had twenty-three hours left to make a fool of myself, and as usual, I did. I got into several fights with one particular robin who had an extremely one-track mind and as a result, I would return to my nest and give a cry without chirping once. It intensified as through a few years we had an on-and-off friendship that was never reciprocated. It also didn't help that at the time I was battling with the sun, and she had such immense faith in it. Some time went by after that period, and she messaged me and apologized for being mean to me when she said I was so nice. I also realize now that I must have been fond of her at the time but didn't know it, which contributed to the unwieldy events that had transpired.

To make this awkward transition even worse, a male robin had expressed a hunger for me, in a way that was not flattering. Instead of dancing and revealing a bright colorful undertone, he revealed his true colors by chirping at me with an implication that I didn't like. I felt uncomfortable and vulnerable and a single word he said set me off inside. It led me to resent the term every other time it was mentioned even if by me, and still can't fully say it without feeling a sense of guilt. But every time I'm in some type of heat, I don't mind it being used.

The immense amount of anguish and solitude I felt during this time is nearly inexpressible. The only people who I considered close to me were bullies, but based on other societal norms, people who live the status quo wouldn't even take notice. A mix of tar would swell in my chest and contaminate me with ruin. I constantly felt like something was wrong with me for not being able to make connections with people who so easily seemed to get along with one another and enjoy their presence.

I remember days when I would think about conversations that transpired between people from nights before and hold my breath in class in order to suppress a total breakdown. Every day through this, I would just go through the motions. A bite or scratch couldn't break the surface of my skin. This made me feel guilty about betraying something I had thought I believed in before and about me; myself as a person, and what I was doing with my life. I felt that there was no one who really understood me and felt as if I should leave. With these feelings, I didn't know what to do. But what I can remember is violently crying by my bed leaning over my knees and scratching my wrists and arms. The scratches weren't much, and they went away within minutes, but the guilt continued to spiral. I thought about what I was taught in terms of religion at this point, and I wanted to seep into the floor and never be seen again.

This period made me question my dedication to the sky.