Cut The Cord

When I was 19, I created a miniature sculpture of my childhood bedroom. The inside walls were decorated with paintings of childhood events that stuck with me. The ceiling light glowed warm orange. Inside was a pair of scissors just barely fitting inside. And on the outside, holding it all together, was an umbilical cord. I used to struggle with leaving my protective barrier when I was younger. And to me, my bedroom symbolized that. It was safe, but too safe, and I knew someday when I moved out, all the elements that came with that would be a radical shift in my life. I told myself that when I moved out, I would feel totally different, all these issues would be in the past, and I would take out the scissors and cut the cord confidently. But now, at 23, I've been living independently for a few months. And often when I walk into my apartment, or pay my monthly bills, or go grocery shopping, I remember this project. But it never felt "right" to cut the cord. I was waiting for a feeling I wasn't sure existed until I made this decision to destroy my sculpture. To be honest, I was hoping I would feel all these strong, freeing emotions, that I would feel completely changed and different. And while I do feel free, and changed, and different, it just didn't look how I expected. And I realized one of the things that I need to let go of along with my sculpture, is this child's idea of what adulthood looks like. So on a random evening, I decided to just cut the cord. It was never going to "feel right." It just was.