HAVANA TIMES — With time, it seems that I’ve become something of a homebody, that is to say, I don’t ever want to leave the house these days – not even to go to the movies, which is my favorite kind of outing.
I no longer go into shops to treat my eyes to the furniture I’ll never be able to afford, or sit at the city’s main park to watch the children play in the fountain. I have my own children now and the fountain is no longer interesting to me.
Nor do I visit friends who have complicated working hours and, as such, are less likely to find the time to come visit me.
I no longer stroll down the streets in search of a story, a love affair or a stray dog. I no longer think about writing a book, I already have someone to love, and the younger of my two girls brought home a puppy.
I’ve become a homebody and I’m not sure why. My brothers say I only have work on my mind, nothing else. My friends say becoming a mother changed me, that now I only think about my girls, about their education, about being by their side all of the time.
My brothers and sisters exaggerate things. I work only as much as I need to, or, at least, as much as I have to in order to pitch in at home.
As for my friends, well, there may be some truth to what they say – but my daughters aren’t the reason behind my new addiction to being in the house. On the contrary, the few times I plan any outings, it is to take them out somewhere, away from the neighborhood and daily routine.
I have become a homebody, yes, and it’s out of fear of being shoved in a line somewhere, or being shouted at a bus-stop and having to reply in similar fashion. I have become a homebody out of fear of the cruel, indolent and egotistical people of this world.