Zikora

by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

I felt angry and I felt ugly and I welcomed both like a bitter refuge.

“It’s funny how pregnancy is like body hair. We scrub and scrape our armpits and upper lip and legs because we hate to have hair there. Then we pamper and treat the hair on our heads because we love hair there. But it’s all hair. It’s the wanting that makes the difference.”

I read somewhere that love was about this, the nuggets of knowledge about our beloved that we so fluently hold.