beholdingslut:

“I have never been good at carrying water. Or swimming. Or becoming one with any kind of body. I was almost born in a teal Volvo, the rain coming down so anxiously on the way to the hospital it only made my mother contract more. The first time I almost drowned, it was in a pool at a family barbecue. My mother jumped in fully clothed to save me. The second time was in the Pacific Ocean on Christmas Eve. The strongest wave pulled me down, then carried me back to shore, as if it, too, was overcome by a mother’s maternal instinct. The third time was in my own bathtub. I was almost thirteen, sick of feeling stuck in that sea of brain sickness. That day, I learned I am not only not good at swimming, I am also not good at dying. I held my breath for a minute, then let my skin meet the surface again as I remembered everything I had left to live for. My thirteenth birthday, only eight days away. My family. The possible day woman learns how to breathe underwater. I wrapped myself in a towel, overcome by something. A maternal instinct of some sort, but for myself. These stories have a few different points: my mother has saved me multiple times, even if she doesn’t know it. I have saved myself multiple times, even if I don’t know it. I was born on the cusp of the Water Bearer and the Fish, and if I should ever have children that I am not afraid of having, they will not come into the world by broken fluid or iced-over city. They will not be born shivering, terrified of the damage they will bring into this universe. They will be born with their heads above the water. So help me God, I will always see to that.”

— Cusp, Lydia Havens (via southwestwitch)