Without Regrets

From the woman that I am today
sometimes
I like to look back
to those I could have been,
that graceful woman,
the homemaker, the perfect wife, that women full of virtues,
that my mother always dreamed of
I don't know why
my whole life I have being
fighting a mortal fight  against them,
I hate
their open threat against my body,
the guilt that their unreachable life leaves
and in a strange way
their life inspire me
I rebel against their eternal labor of love,
against crying in secret corners away from their husbands,
against their constant shame of nudity,
against their white clean underwear,

However, these women
raise an accusing finger
from inside the mirrors,
and sometimes, I yield to their reproachful looks
and I want to win universal acceptance,
be the "good girl", the "decent woman"
the perfect Irina,
the Irina without reproach.
sometimes I want to get an A+
with my co-workers, my neighborhood,
my friends and family
and everyone and everything from Greenpeace to
                             the husband and the kids that I would  have

In this contradiction inevitably
between what should have been and what is,
I have fought many deadly battles
of bloody bites of them against me
                                                    -They that dwell in me wanting to be myself-
The transgression of my scolding mother commandments
And I, Irina,
Sore and faltering with tears
Keep going attacking the internal women
That since childhood
Have poked and twisted
because they do not fit into the perfect mold of my dreams,
and I dare to be
this crazy, fallible, tender and vulnerable,
who falls and stumbles like a lost soul
with just causes,
beautiful, mysterious, unpredictable, lunatic, wonderful women
and playful words.
Because, as an adult,
I dared to live forbidden dreams,
made love on desktops
                           During business hours
desegregate the genes of my ancestors
that blessed me with this healthy, sensuous
body of mine
and break inviolable ties.
I do not blame anyone.
            I rather give thanks for  their gifts.
I do not regret anything, like Edith Piaf said.

But in the dark pits where I sink,
when, in the morning,
before I barely open my eyes,
I feel the tears pushing;
and those other women waiting in the lobby,
wielding verdicts against my happiness.
undaunted good girls surround me
dancing their  children's songs against
this woman
this complete and full
woman
This woman of round  breast and wide hips
that,
because of my mother and against her,
I like to be
And
I am.