Just A Girl

Amber pushes her dually stroller along the north to south corridor of her small Midwestern city every day. The adorable blonde heads of her toddler twins, Maggie and Megan, poke out of puffy white parkas like chicks hatching from eggs. Pedestrians often stop to remark how cute the girls look, calling them “little angels” and making gaga noises which are reciprocated by wide, wet smiles and excited shrieks of laughter from the girls.

Amber is a regular at the supermarket located near the end of Main Street. She knows all the managers, clerks and cashiers by first name. They always put a few extra cans of Similac on hold just for her and the store manager has even given her free diapers on more than one occasion.

Amber is greeted by Keith at the video store where she often takes out 5-10 movies at a time. Keith stopped charging Amber for late fees after she incurred a balance of $50.00 for a lost copy of The Incredibles. Keith will set aside new releases he knows Amber will enjoy: action/adventure, romance and comedy (Amber doesn’t care much for serious drama and sci-fi, and she doesn’t like anything that is “too artsy”).

After her daily grocery shopping trip, dropping off and checking out DVDs at the video store and sometimes feeding pigeons in the park, Amber returns home where she spends the rest of the day and evening on the Internet and engaged in mommy tasks.

“It is hard to tell people what I do,” she says. But then she corrects herself: “It is hard telling people what I DON’T DO.”

The father of Amber’s twins split two years ago and is now living somewhere in Georgia. He stopped paying child support ten months ago, but even before that Amber says it was hard getting even anything from him (such as a reliable address or phone number).

Amber is embarrassed by her lack of independence. Having no job and no social life, she says, makes her feel like an unproductive member of society. “I am like a useless prop,” she says. “Every city and town is supposed to have its unemployed single moms to laugh at, and that is me.”

As I followed Amber around, however, I became aware that nobody was laughing at her. In fact, people kept going out of their way time and again to help her or just make friendly conversation. When I reminded Amber of this she adjusted her position. “My thinking does tend to get clouded with negativity at times, and this is why I’m seeing somebody who helps me with these emotions.”

Amber visits a psychiatrist twice a month who prescribes Celexa for her depression. A case manager from a local non-profit agency checks in on her every week to make sure everything at home is honky dory. Amber also receives food stamps to help her buy groceries and other necessities for the girls. But rather than feeling entitled to this help, Amber instead feels like a victim. “I wouldn’t be in this mess today if I had been smart and known what I was getting into when I got pregnant,” she says.

Amber’s fixation with romance movies started when her doctor challenged her to find a way to counter her stressful feelings of depression and loneliness. While she admits that these movies make her feel good and calm her down, Amber claims that they also have the tendency to make her reality seem even more confusing than it already is. “These movies show me an entirely different world, one that doesn’t have any real hardships or consequences.”

If Amber’s life seems familiar, that is because it is.

Do you know someone like Amber?

Still Life

 

Copyright 2009 Tim Freeman