alwaysivity estranged. just as estranged from my own mother. i was in awe of her body but couldn't find my way in. her breasts were not the breasts that fed me. everyone admired my mother in the tight tops and leggings with her hair in a blond french twist as she drove through the rich town. i gawked and desired the earth and my mother. i despise my own body which was not her body. my body i had been forced to evacuate when my father invaded and violated me. i lived as a breastless patient machine programmed for striving accomplishment. i did not, inhabit my body or the earth. i couldn't feel or know their pain. i could not intoo -- i never the boundary of enough. i was driven. i called it working hard. being busy. on top of it. making things happen. in fact i could not stop. stopping would mean experiencing separation, loss, tumbling in to a suicidal dislocation. as i had no reference point if more body i began to ask other women about their body. in particular their vagina. it's very important. this lead me to writing the vagina monologue whi